


A New Hope (Draft)

by ract46



Series: WERES AU [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, Cages, Chastity Device, Collars, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Paddling, Scent Marking, Spanking, sub!Isaac, sub!Scott, sub!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Danny have taken their slave-pets to Seattle and plan to cross the border into Canada and freedom for their enslaved werewolves, but will they make it or will events overtaken them?</p><p>Also, what of those left behind in Beacon Hills?  What will happen to Sheriff Stilinski when it becomes known that his son planning to illegally take three slave-pets across the border?  What will happen to Argent Pet Supplies and Chris Argent?  Or to Allison and Jacob?</p><p>And what about the future of Danny and Jackson, now that Danny knows the truth about the kibble will he ever be able to forgive himself for his ignorance and cruelty when he first purchased Jackson?</p><p>And will Deaton and Marin Morrell find themselves in danger after the tests they carried out on Stiles and his pack at the NMC laboratory?</p><p>  <b>This story may contain elements that some readers may consider triggers concerning the dubious/non-consensual activities that occur that are of a sexual and/or violent nature.</b></p><p>The story is a sequel to my story <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/650191/chapters/1182979">A Doggy of my Own</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter. ~~Though really it was more like co-authoring about 30% of it, but I'm never going to admit that.~~

Stiles ignored the stares that he and his pack ( _and he was surprised to realise he was including Danny and Jackson in that group_ ) were receiving as they walked through the airport after collecting their bags. The first stop had been to the toilets where he had Derek, Scott, Isaac and Jackson dress in actual clothes; just jeans, a shirt and a pair of sneakers, but it would do for now. Though, he had to admit, if only to himself, it was the cause of the attention they were getting now; four collared, _and clothed_ , slave-pets certainly stood out, but he wouldn’t make their next stop without them being fully clothed.

He hadn’t expected any arguments from his wolves about getting dressed. He had assumed they would be happy to wear regular clothes or at least something that didn’t make it look like they just stepped off the set of a porno movie. No, it just couldn’t be that straightforward.

_ Stiles dispensed the clothes to the wolves when they closed the door to the bathroom behind them; he looked at them expecting to see happy smiling faces. Well, Jackson could be happy but, it's kinda hard to tell when his face moves less than Kristen Stewart. He just looks at Danny expectantly and when he doesn’t object Jackson starts pulling on the pants. Scott and Isaac look like he is making them do something heinous, both of them scowling and casting hateful glances at him while they dress. Derek looks at them like he doesn’t know what they are. _

_ “What are these?” Derek asks, his eyebrows pulled into a scowl in the middle of his brow, as he holds the pair of denim jeans out at arm’s length from him. Stiles just doesn’t get what the problem is. _

_“Those are pants Derek,” he retorts, “They go over your ass, I know it’s been awhile since you’ve worn them, but we both know that you still know what pants are, and how to put them own. I’ve seen how you watch me, eyes tracking my every movement, when I get dressed for school or when we go to the park, so I know you haven’t forgotten how to put them on either. Speaking of which, by the way, it would be great if you could start dressing any time now so that the four of you are dressed and we can be on our way_ **_before_** _someone else comes in here_.” 

_“Yes, I do know what pants are. What I don’t know is why_ **_we_** ,”Derek’s scowl has deepened as he waves his arm between Scott, Isaac, Jackson and himself, “ _Are getting dressed? It will only draw more attention to us.”_

_ “Derek,” Stiles pauses as the door to the bathroom opens and a security guard walks in. _

_ “Everything alright in here?” the guard asks, “You do realise that these facilities are only for humans, not slave-pets?” _

_ “Our slave-pets are not using the facilities,” Stiles coldly answers, “We are using them to get our pets in some clothing so they don’t get their sweat all over my rental car, getting it all sweaty and filthy. That way I won’t be paying extra for a deep clean when we return it.” _

_“_ **_Now_** ,” _he growls as he turns back to Derek, “Get those on before I_ _drag you to the lobby and spank you red for everyone to watch.” Derek freezes and takes a moment to process Stiles’ words, Stiles know he likes to be spanked but publicly is probably not something he’s ready for or would want, before he is quickly pulling on the jeans. Although, as Stiles see’s Derek covering up his rapidly thickening cock, maybe he’s wrong, maybe being spanked in public is something that Derek would want after all._

So, after taking far longer to get the wolves dressed than he had anticipated they are finally heading to the car rental desk; all four slave-pets dressed in regular clothes, and while they look uncomfortable under the stares of public, Stiles ignores it. He is not letting the judge-y stares get to him at all as he strides up to the desk and rings the bell. Not one bit.

“We have a reservation under Stilinski,” Stiles says to the guy behind the desk, ignoring his gaze slipping to the wolves behind him, “It was booked through the company, Argent Pet Supplies...” He snaps his fingers to get the guys attention back to him.

"Yes sir, we have your reservation right here,” he says tapping furiously on the keyboard, “Let's see...a seven seat hybrid? And you're in luck we still have the car you requested.”

“Yeah, Argent’s should have pre-paid and have a credit card on file, any additional costs are to be charged back to them. Mr Mahealani should be registered as the additional driver; I trust everything is in order.” 

"Yes sir, we have your license information on file already, everything seems to be in order, have a wonderful day Mr. Stilinski."

Rushing the guy through all the checks seemed to have been the best choice, hopefully his brusque manner and fast talking was enough to keep him from noticing that neither driver is over twenty-one as they should be, and as their rental agreement claims.

Soon enough they are loading their bags into the trunk, and once the four wolves are safely buckled up in the back Stiles starts driving to their destination. As they pull out onto the I-5 headed north Danny let out a breath.

“Jeez, Stiles, I can’t believe that worked; I kept expecting them to come running after us. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous. You might be the worst liar ever,” Danny half-laughed as he looked over at him.

“ **Rude**! I had it under control,” Stiles lies, and he knows the wolves picked it up, “Nothing to be nervous about.”

“You are so full of shit,” Danny laughs. “Yeah,” Danny smirks, “Like you weren’t worried, talking so fast and twitching so much was all part of your plan; I’m just happy it worked in our favour.” 

“Nice job hacking their system, makes convincing them we're over twenty-one a bit easier,” Stiles says.

“Thanks,” Danny replies, then a little more soberly adds, “Now we just need to find a way to actually cross the border.”

“That’s for tomorrow,” Stiles smiles, trying to keep his own nervousness out of his voice, “Tonight we have a blast at the hotel all paid for by Argent Pet Supplies.” After one little surprise stop, he thinks to himself.

Scott couldn’t help but pull at the collar of the shirt and the leg of the jeans; after so many months of becoming used to being naked he feels uncomfortable in the clothes. He still didn’t know why he and the rest of the pack were being forced to wear them, Jackson, Derek and Isaac all looked just as awkward as he felt.

The drive from the airport was only about twenty minutes and the car was pulling up outside a small townhouse in Seattle; he thought they were headed to a hotel. As Stiles switched the engine off Scott could feel Stiles’ heart rate spike, “Something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong,” Stiles answers, “Okay, well, I hope this is the right address,” Stiles said as he got out of the car, “come on.”

Everyone took their cue and followed Stiles up the path to the door, he knocked loudly. After a few moments he was about to knock again when the door opened.

“Hi…” Stiles didn’t get to say another word as a fist smacked him right on the nose.

“Stiles… **_Mom?_** ” Scott couldn’t quite believe his eyes, his mom was standing there in the doorway of the house; and she had just punched his master.

The moment caught up with him, and he realised what he was seeing. He was standing in front of his mom; his master had found his mom, and brought him here to see her. He felt the tears well in his eyes, “ _Mom?_ ”

“Scott?” she covered her mouth with her hand, the shock and joy and disbelief flitting through her eyes momentarily before she pushes forward and pulls him into a hug so tight.

He nuzzles against her neck, taking in her scent and the feel of her hair against his cheek; everything so familiar, as if they were still a family back in Beacon Hills before… the thought making his tears fall. She keeps repeating his name as he holds him, as if fearful he may disappear; the whine is pulled from him before he can hold it back, because tomorrow he will.

“You know, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to take this inside,” he hears Stiles suggest. His mom pulls back from him, wiping at her eyes with her hands. Stiles follows up with, “The lounge might be more comfortable.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she says as she steps inside, and his pack quickly follows.

“Well…” Stiles starts as he sits, noticing the hesitancy of his pack, clearly not sure where they should sit; how they should behave around Scott’s mom, “Guys, sit down,” he says patting the space beside him on the couch; Derek immediately takes the seat beside him. Isaac copies Jackson, who is sitting at Danny’s feet, by sitting on the floor between himself and Derek, and Scott settles beside him.

“You know I think that Scott’s mom has more chairs, and I don’t think she will object to you using them,” he says, only for Isaac and Scott to give him the sad puppy look at his suggestion, “Fine, whatever; why **_wouldn’t_** you all be happier sitting on the floor.”

“You’ve got some explaining to do Stiles,” Melissa rounded on him as soon as everyone was seated, her anger at him and distrust of him clear in her tone, “What the hell gives you the right to be here after the misery you caused? And what are you doing with Scott?”

“He’s my Master,” Scott answers, and Stiles can tell he is somehow confused at her anger towards him.

“ _He’s your **what?**_ ” she gasps, and Stiles can see her rage begin to burn before she screams at him, “ ** _Wasn’t it bad enough you dragged him out into woods to get bitten?_** ” her tears falling as she continues, almost screaming at him, “ ** _Wasn’t it enough that you ripped him from his family? That you ruined his life in every way possible? That you took my son from me?_** ”

And Stiles can’t answer her, can’t defend himself; what could he say? Nothing. Not when it is everything he has ever thought himself, berated himself for, and knows that nothing can ever make up for causing him to be bitten, for not being able to save him when WERES came to the school and took him and Jackson.

“ **NO!** ” Scott screams, and Stiles hears the low growl emanating from Derek and Isaac as Scott says, “He didn’t drag me anywhere, he isn’t responsible for me being out there; I am.”

“Scott,” Stiles says, intending to tell him he knows Scott’s mom is right.

“No,” Scott interrupts him, “We had this discussion before, when you got me; I know you feel responsible, that you feel you should have done more to protect me. You feel that way about everyone you care about; that you need to protect them, be responsible for them. But what more could you have done?”

"Scott I know you don't blame me,” Stiles says quietly, “But that doesn't mean your mom is wrong.” He looks over at Scott to see his brow crinkled in confusion, “Do you remember when you told me that you always had a choice, and that you chose to do what made me happy? I didn't really appreciate it at the time Scott, but part of making decisions for someone means putting their wellbeing before your own. You needed me to put your best interests before my own Scotty, and I didn’t do that. But I promise you I will always do that now.”

“ ** _That’s crazy!_** ” Stiles’ eyes widen at Scott’s outburst, “You tried to help me and Jackson escape as soon as you found out we were werewolves, and when weres took me from Allison you made sure to keep me so I had a pack. What more could you have done?”

“ _You tried to help them escape?_ ” Melissa asks, “But everyone said you _stopped them escaping_ , or that you _tried to_ until they overpowered you and locked you in a cupboard.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because the idiots did overpower me and lock me in a cupboard; we were on the way to my jeep at the time. Like the Spanish Inquisition, no one expects two werewolves to ambush the guy trying to help them escape; morons,” Stiles says with a smirk at his best friend as he runs his fingers through his hair. He can tell that Scott has a smile on his face as he rubs his cheek against his leg.

“Until the Argents and WEREs turned up I didn’t even know Scott had been bitten,” Stiles quietly tells her, “If I had we would have been halfway to Canada the day after he was bitten.”

“How could you have kept this from me?” she asks turning to Scott, tears in her eyes as she kneels on the floor beside him, pulling him into another hug, “Why? You should have **_told_** **_me_**. How could you be so stupid? I could have done something to protect you, I could have moved us up here and arranged to sneak across the border…”

Stiles smiles as he recalls a similar conversation that he and Scott had on the day that he became his legal owner.

_ The water cascaded down Scott’s back, Stiles hands resting in the curve above his back. Their foreheads touching as Scott whispers the words against his lips, “You’ll be the awesomest Master.” _

_ Stiles hopes the water raining down on them from the showerhead will hide his tears; hopes that maybe Scott isn’t quite capable yet of picking up on all the other tell-tale signs, his heartbeat, his scent, the dilation of his pupils, the hope dashed when he sees the questioning look in Scott’s eyes. _

_ “I’m the worst best friend,” he replies, “I never noticed what was going on with you; looking back now I can see, and I don’t know how I missed it. How jumpy you were the day after we went out looking for the body, how good you were on at lacrosse practice; I should have noticed Scotty, and I didn’t.” _

_ “No…” _

_ “Yes, if I was any sort of friend I would have noticed, and I could have helped, come up with some way to protect you…” _

_ “No, I didn’t want you to know…” _

_ “But we told each other everything, didn’t we? You could have trusted me.” _

_ “… I wanted to protect you,” Scott waivers as he replies, “If WERES thought you knew, that you were helping to hide me being a slave-pet they would have charged you and your dad, he’d have lost his job; I couldn’t tell my mom either, I couldn’t let the people I cared about, the people I loved, be in any more danger because of what I am.” _

_ "What you are is my best friend...no, you’re more than that Scotty, you're my brother. I would die for you a hundred times over. Will you trust me to take care of you from now on? No more secrets." _

_ "No more secrets, I love you master." _

“ ** _What exactly is going on?_** ” Melissa asks, the stern tone of her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He looks up to see his wolves looking sheepishly to the ground as Melissa looks from one to another of them.

“What did I miss?” Stiles asks, feeling his eyebrows rise as he looks around at everyone, “And can we maybe move from the hallway into the lounge?” He sees Melissa roll her eyes at him.

“I was saying to my **_son_** ,” Stiles winces at the way she bit off the word as she said it, “That if I had known I might have been able to arrange for us to sneak across the border; then I noticed the nervous looks everyone was giving each other; so, _Stiles_ , what is going on?”

“Funny you should ask actually, ‘cause we’re sneaking across the border; tomorrow,” he replies smiling at her, “Wanna come along?”

“ ** _Are you_** **_completely insane?_** ” she wails at him, “How are you going to sneak **_six_** of you past the border patrols? _And why now_?”

"It won’t be as complicated as it sounds. Getting close to the border with them is half the battle, and that's already taken care of. WERES approved us using Jackson as a stud for a slave-pet within half an hour of the border. It's not a guarantee but Canada has never turned away werewolf refugees. They've stayed neutral in the past but with the invasion into Alaska I figure border tensions may play in our favour. The Canadians won't care if we cross the border illegally. The border is nearly four thousand miles long, excluding Alaska, the guys on this side of it can’t patrol the whole thing. You wouldn’t even know it was there if it wasn’t for the twenty feet of clear cut trees and wilderness…”

“Stiles,” Melissa says drawing his attention back to her and the question he was about to answer.

“Yes, sorry, babbling… right, why now? Well…” he thinks for a moment, taking Derek’s hand as he tries to decide where to start, “The main thing is Derek and I are expecting…”

“Expecting?” Melissa immediately interrupts him, “Wait… Derek is the delta that went into heat? I’d heard a rumour…”

“It’s no rumour, he’s carrying our twins, and I won’t have my family raised as slaves. Why don’t I start at the beginning?”

He wants to explain everything, as best he can. Some of it not even his pack will have heard before; certainly not Danny and Jackson.

”I always wanted a ‘slave-pet’, but not for the reasons most people do,” he starts, the emotion already creeping into his voice, “I thought that if I could find one werewolf that I could give as normal a life as possible it would be worth it; it was all I thought about, but it never happened.”

“After Scott was bitten and taken by the Argents and WERES I knew that I didn’t want Scott to go through all that I saw other werewolves endure; not after I caused him to be bit. It seemed perfect, I could save my best friend, make sure he was happy and keep him safe. I just needed dad to sign the papers, but he flat out refused to let me buy Scotty,” Stiles knows that he and Scott have talked about it since he came to live with them, but he can feel the tears in his eyes, as he continues, “I… I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t want you, but I wanted you more than I wanted anything Scotty.”

“I don’t think my dad and I ever fought that bad before, we didn’t speak for weeks. We only started talking again when he agreed that I could have a slave pet, as long as it wasn’t Scott. I was still angry, but things did start to get better between us. That’s when Lydia showed up. I can only speculate how Lydia Martin had gotten hold of my WERES psychological assessment and exam scores,” when he looks across at Danny he at least has the decency to look guilty.

“Lydia told me that she was looking for someone to help with a little project, and that if I was interested to meet her at Deaton’s. I thought she was talking about a school project; at Deaton’s I found out how wrong I was.”

“It was Deaton who told me that ‘Ms Martin’ had checked his WERES assessment and found me to be the best person for the job,” he tries to keep the sneering tone from his voice, but Stiles is sure he fails, “That given the results of the tests he carried out for my mom after she was attacked he was sure that I would help them; telling me how they really needed me to help them, it would be better for everyone if they succeeded. This was how I found out I was not exactly human, and not exactly wolf.”

He pauses briefly as considers how to continue.

“So, I knew that if I was to interact with the Argents and infiltrate the Argent Pet Empire to feed Deaton and his little local cell of the werewolf rights group information I couldn’t be myself. I had to act like every other slave-pet owner. I had to buy a slave-pet he could treat like that, one that I wouldn’t care so much about. So I bought werewolf with the meanest, gruffest look and the sourest disposition. I bought Sourwolf,” Stiles is stopped by Derek’s snort of laughter and turns to stare at him.

“Sorry,” Derek says looking sheepish, “But if how you treated me when you first bought me is how badly you thought other owners treat their werewolves, I have to tell you it was far better than best I was treated by Kate Argent; it was better than how I’d seen any other werewolf treated.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “My plan went awry. I fell in love with Derek, I also ended up owning Scott, and then when I had to let WERES know about Derek being a delta and having his heat they arranged for me to get Isaac, to see if I could cause another delta to have their heat; but they aren’t my pets, they are my pack.”

“And now Isaac is getting close to his heat. My pack is getting ready to start a family. I need to know they are protected and safe.”

There is silence when he finishes, he can see Melissa thinking through what he has just revealed.

“Deaton arranged the job I have here, it’s at werewolf clinic, one where actual doctors and nurses treat them instead of a veterinary nurse or doctor,” Melissa reveals, her voice startling Stiles in the silence, but her next words shock him more, “I was part of the wolf rights cell in Beacon Hills. I can’t believe he would risk the life of a teenager, **_what the hell was he thinking?_** ” 

Melissa is out of the chair and pacing the room in her anger, “He’s lucky Claudia isn’t here to see what he did; she would have ripped his throat out, _with her teeth_ , for what he has done,” she says turning to Stiles, he’s shocked to hear his mom talked of being capable of doing something so violent, “After all the effort we went to covering up that she was turned by the bite. Deaton throws it all away for his own agenda.”

“My mom was a werewolf?” Stiles sits there stunned by Melissa’s statement.

“Deaton didn’t tell you?” Melissa stops her pacing and turns on the spot to face him, “Typical of the man to give you part of the story and not everything.”

“Yeah, he only mentioned that despite the results of the WERES blood test I _kinda_ wasn’t entirely human,” Stiles half laughs; edging close to hysterics. This was supposed to be a reunion for Scott and his mom, not a revelation of Stilinski family secrets. _He’d never understood why his mom wanted the tests Deaton carried out on him, it never made sense when she wasn’t bitten, she’d only been attacked, scratched with claws not with the alpha’s big sharp teeth._

“I need some air,” he blurts out, turning to look at Melissa before continuing, “Why don’t I take everyone else out back into your garden, to enjoy the early morning sun, while Scott and you catch up?” He rises out of the seat and everybody follows suit.

He sits on the garden bench; Derek rubbing soothing circles on his back as Isaac rubs against him, cheek to cheek. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing thoughts; _how did his mom keep hidden the fact that she was a werewolf until she died? How much was Deaton and Melissa involved in that? What were the implications of it for the changes that were occurring in his DNA? What is he?_

Now more than ever he knew that he had to get his pack to Canada. It was the only way he could be sure to protect them.

“You’re looking well,” Melissa says, not taking her eyes off her son, the son she didn’t think she would ever see again.

“I’m fine,” Scott smiles, “Better now that I’m with Stiles, and Derek and Isaac.”

The thought crosses her mind that he could be thinking that purely due to the werewolf kibble.

“He feeding you right?” she finds herself asking.

“Sure.”

And she knows he’s hiding something, Scott was never a good liar, and a mother knows the look that crossed his face. _It makes her wonder again at how she missed it those weeks after he bitten, or did she just mistake what was being hidden from her after finding Scott and Jackson in bed together. Knowing what she does now changes her interpretation of that day._

“Scott, what aren’t you telling me?” she asks using he stern, concerned mother tone; she sees the worry that crosses his face and is suddenly expecting the worst.

“ _You can’t tell anyone_ ,” he says earnestly, “ _Promise_.”

“Okay,” she easily says. She’ll decide after he has told her whether to keep that promise.

“Master,” she bristles at her son calling his _best friend_ **_that_** , “He feeds us the same food he eats; even before he knew about the effects of kibble he only gave us what he needed to, after he wouldn’t let us eat it at all, we only ate the same food as he and his dad ate.”

“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you?” she asks confused by what Scott has said, “Did you want to eat it?”

“ **NO** , _but we had too_ ; if WERES tested us and found we haven’t been eating it they would take us away from Stiles,” his reply filled with panic at the thought as he looks guiltily to the floor, “So, we’d sneak down to the kitchen when he was asleep and eat some.” She can’t contain the laugh that escapes at the thought of three werewolves lying to their owner and sneaking into the kitchen because they wanted to eat kibble.

“Sorry,” she says noticing Scott’s puzzled look at her laughing, “I just can’t get over the image of the three of you sneaking out of bed to go eat that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Scott smirks, “We always had the competition between us to see who could come up with the most convincing thing that would make it taste better,” she sees the wistful look come over his face, “None of ever did,” her joking, smiling son is suddenly replaced with the apprehensive and haunted one.

“We didn’t want WERES to take us from him. I didn’t want someone like Allison’s mom owning me; I like being owned by Stiles, he looks after us. We read, we talk, we play Call of Duty; we never sleep in the cage, but sleep right beside him. He’s the perfect master. He’s our alpha.”

“Oh Scott,” she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

They leave Melissa’s after arranging to meet tomorrow morning to head to Bellingham, and onto the border.

Stiles drives them straight to the hotel, they check-in and are shown up to their joining rooms. The cages are set against the wall opposite the bed; three small cages that together are barely the size of the bed.

As they are settling into the room Isaac suddenly whimpers and gasps as he slumps against one of the chairs. As Stiles walks towards him to check that he is alright Scott is suddenly placing himself between Isaac and anyone else.

“ ** _Mine_** ,” Scott snarls at Stiles.

Stiles knows what is wrong with Isaac; his heat has arrived with perfect timing. Not. And he can’t let Scott just claim him; not with without Isaac giving his consent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpts from future chapters of A New Hope
> 
> She waited on the next blow coming; it didn’t.  
>  Instead she heard the slap of skin connecting as someone caught her owner’s fist in their hand, and then she heard the words.  
>  “The greatest tragedy is not the strident clamour of bad people, it’s the appalling silence of good people; and I find I can be silent no longer.”  
>  “Fuck off Boyd, this has got nothing to do with you,” her owner snarled, “What are you some kind of doggy…”  
>  His words were cut short as a fist connected with her owners jaw, she could smell the blood, and saw the teeth fly from his mouth.  
> 
> 
> \---------------
> 
> Stiles is sitting in the cell looking through the bars across at Danny sitting in the cell opposite. He can see Danny clearly, sitting with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor. The feeling of defeat evident in the slumped shoulders and bowed head. 
> 
> \---------------
> 
> “I want my Mate, take me to Stiles NOW,” Derek roared at her, she sat staring at him. Her expression impassive.  
>  “That’s not going to happen and you know it,” she calmly stated, “You and the other werewolves you were with will never see those former owners again.”  
> 


	2. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

“ **SCOTT!** ” Stiles roared at him, but it only made Scott snarl more when any of them moved towards them. And Stiles needed to check on Isaac, with his heat arriving he if going to need to talk with the delta; he needs to have Isaac consent to having someone take him during his heat, or decide that he wants to take care of his own needs.

“ ** _SCOTT!_** ” Stiles roared again and he could feel the red bleed into his eyes.

Scott immediately ducked his head and bared his neck; a whimper of fear and contrition escaping from him.

“Mine,” Scott whines, “Isaac’s… he’s mine. He’s my mate; I know it.” And Stiles can see him practically vibrate out of his skin with the hurt of not being allowed to claim Isaac as his mate. He moves in close to Scott and pulls him into a hug, nuzzling along his crooked jaw.

It isn’t as if he didn’t know Scott would want to take Isaac as his mate; Scott had been more than a bit obvious. He was constantly scenting Isaac since he arrived, though Stiles isn’t sure if either of them are aware of how closely they have interacted. From the touching during Isaac’s first visit with them to Deaton’s, during the testing at the NMC lab, and even when they were just at Scott’s mom’s house Scott sat right beside Isaac on the floor and his hand never left Isaac’s leg or knee or the back of his neck. Scott can’t seem to help but touch him.

It’s not as if Stiles has an issue with them being together, as long as that is also what Isaac wants. He just needs to make sure that they both want it, and that they can meet all of each other’s needs. Two submissive will have some added sexual challenges without a doubt.

“Scotty, I know you like Isaac,” Stiles whispers low into his ear as he holds him close, “I’ve seen how much you want to protect him since he came to us from that place; but as his, and your, alpha I need to be sure that he wants you to claim him, and that he is ready to be claimed.”

The whimper of need and the sharp rise in Isaac’s scent draws their attention. He’s pulling the jeans, shredded from his claws ripping through them in his frenzy to remove them from his legs, the seat of them soaked in his slick, as he palms at his straining cock. There’s a whine from Jackson who starts forward, but he is block by Derek, Danny pulls him back towards the door of their adjoining room and pushes it closed as they step through.

“You need to ask Isaac if he wants you to see him through his heat, and you need to ask if he is ready for you to claim him or even wants you to claim him. Okay?”

He feels the imperceptible nod of Scott’s head as it rubs against the side of his own and hears the accompanying ‘ _Okay_ ’ breathed across his neck.

Scott crawls over to where Isaac is writhing on the floor in need, the wave of his first heat in years beginning to consume him. He goes to curl against him until Stiles warns him to ask Isaac first.

“Please,” he pleads, “Isaac, I want to take care of you and protect you. I really like you Isaac, and I want to keep you safe, I need to know you are okay and I want so much to be your mate. Do you… do you want me as your mate?” The last words so unsure and asked so quietly Stiles almost doesn’t hear them.

Isaac turns to him, and curls himself into Scott, rutting against him as he breathlessly answers, “Yes, Scott, please, yes.”

Stiles knows that deltas are naturally submissive, and he knows that Scotty is too; he’d told him about those websites he used to look at when he was human, showed him a couple of them too. It removed some of the worries he’d had about that weekend Scotty spent as his piss-slave; now that he knew it was something he had wanted before he was bitten and that it wasn’t derived from the effects of the kibble on him. And seeing him turn bright red in embarrassment as he showed him the websites was the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

He knows those needs will need to be met for both of them, and while he isn’t their mate he is there alpha and he needs to ensure that they are both cared for and content; if they both still agree to submit to him, and Derek is okay with it

For now he needs to see if there is a heat room available in the hotel for Scott and Isaac to spend the night. Otherwise he and Derek will be finding out what it was like for Scott in the cage under his bed while Derek was in heat.

Scott snuggled against Isaac, curling flush to his back his nose buried in the mass of blond curls of Isaac’s hair; safe in their nest of blankets.

Stiles had covered the cage, draping several sheets and blankets over it to give him and Isaac some privacy. Though surrounded by the scent of pack they hadn’t felt threatened and caved to their desires quickly caring little for the lack of privacy.

_ He had spread Isaac out before him, pulling is ass cheeks apart and lapping at the essence seeping from him; the taste and scent of his mate-to-be drawing forth his baser instincts as he nipped and marked him with growing need, the pleasurable pain he was causing him only making the delta’s own growing need more taut. _

_Scott flipped his mate onto his back and licked along the length of Isaac’s hardness, teasing the weeping head of his rigid shaft; his own achingly hard with a desperate need to sink into the warmth of his willing and needful mate._ **_To claim him as his_. **

_ The soft mewling whimpers Isaac made as he took the length of him down into his throat pulling the wanton growl to vibrate around him and drawing his first taste of Isaac’s release over his tongue. _

_ He drew Isaac’s legs around him, felt Isaac grip him tightly in their grasp. _

_ “Please, Scott,” his mate begged him, “Need you in me, need to feel you, please.” _

_ As he sank into the warmth and rested against him, biting at his mate’s jaw, and neck, leaving his marks on Isaac's pale skin the need to breed him rose and drove his desires. He thrust with growing vigour, his lips searching out Isaac’s, their kisses hungry and filled with the lust of Isaac’s heat. Their eyes closed against the glow of their molten gold, and as the rapid approach of their climax claimed they claimed each other; fangs piercing into the skin coving his mate’s collarbone. _

Scott lost track of how often he has taken his mate. The need for rest claiming him as he spoons at Isaac’s back, his mate held safe and tight in his arms.

She stared out from between the bars of her cage at the staid grey walls of the corridor. She could see most of the other cages were empty. It was quiet in the WERES holding cells. It was a reprieve from her usual day.

Her day had started much like any other, and then someone changed everything.

_ She waited on the next blow coming; it didn’t. _

_ Instead she heard the slap of skin connecting as someone caught her owner’s fist in their hand, and then she heard the words. _

_ “To paraphrase Dr Martin Luther King Jr, the greatest tragedy of this turbulent period is not the strident clamour of bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people; and I find I can be silent no longer.” _

_ “Fuck off Boyd, this has got nothing to do with you,” her owner snarled, “What are you some kind of doggy…” _

_ His words were cut short as a fist connected with her owners jaw, she could smell the blood, and saw the teeth fly from his mouth. _

_ “Is this teaching you how to behave? Are you learning from your punishment?” Boyd, she remembered her owner calling the man, asked each time his fisted landed on her owner, “After all if your slave pet Erica can learn from you punishing her like this, then you must really be getting the message.” _

_ It took two WERES officers to drag Boyd from her owner and restrain him. _

_ “You fucking animal,” he roared at Boyd as he was forced into the back of the WERES van, “She’s a fucking dog, she’ll heal in minutes, you fucking doggy lover, I’m gonna make sure they lock you up for this!” _

She doesn’t know where Boyd is now, or what is happening to him. What she does know is that the WERES handlers took her from her owner when they looked down at her, their faces full of disgust at the pathetic mess of a bitch she is; she knows it’s true, her owner tells her all the time, ‘ _fucking pathetic stupid bitch, look at the state of you_ ’. He wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.

Her owner wasn’t happy when they took her from him. He shouted and cursed at them, but they got their big sticks out, the ones that buzz and spark, and told him to stand back, they needed to have her checked. But she daren’t hope that she gets to stay here longer, that she isn’t returned to her owner; just not yet, please.

She overheard them say that they were having the vet look at her. That worries her; _what if the vet says she has to be put down_? But a calm thought whispers in her mind, ‘ _At least you wouldn’t be given back to Brian_ ’.

“Mom, I found this dog sitting all by himself. Can I keep him?”

Allison is sitting on her bed, she moves her finger under each word as she reads them aloud. Jacob is sitting beside her paying rapt attention to the story she is reading him, his eyes darting between watching her mouth as she makes the words and tracing her moving finger. He mouths the words silently, copying the shapes she makes. He barks when she says ‘dog’ and then giggles at his own joke. She wishes she had chosen another book, it didn’t bother her when they started, but now a story where a mother objects to every pet her son asks to keep except one – a person, who’s a friend not a pet to the boy – she isn’t sure what message Jacob is taking from the story.

“Now you try,” she says to him, placing his finger at the first word on the page. He looks nervously at the door; and then, turning back to her, he flickeringly smiles before he starts.

She knows that he is recognising words from previous books she has read to him, can see the flicker in his eyes as he scans over the words.

It was Stiles’ idea for her to try to teach Jacob to read and write. She had made a throw away comment to him about how she had wished he knew how to read and write so he could have looked over the files with her; like she would have had Scott do if she still owned him. They both knew that bred slave-pets were never taught, they didn’t need to know how to read or write; and it was widely held they were not capable of learning. To society they were only animals after all. It was no different in colonial times, fear of educating slaves to realize how bad their situation was.

But Stiles said she should try; told her that maybe if she cut the amount of kibble he was fed so that the sedative in it was affecting him less, she could cover the nutritional needs by supplementing his food with human food. Stiles had said that if she wanted a bred slave-pet that was able to read and write maybe others would too, that if they could show it was possible it could be another market for the company.

But now she knows it is possible for Jacob to learn. Now she can see the intelligence in his eyes that they are no longer dulled by the sedatives in the kibble. Now she sees that bred and born werewolves are not just animals, and that the bitten don’t devolve to an animal like state without kibble to force them down. How can she not question everything her family has taught her? Does her father, who spent decades around them, even care to learn more? . She needs to find a way to make things change. But she doesn’t know who to turn to for help, and she’s scared; scared of not only what would happen to her, but what would happen to Jacob if she lets the wrong people find out about her epiphany.

“Five more minutes,” Stiles grumbled as he felt someone shake him awake, he was still half-asleep; the hotel didn’t have a heat room, but they sent an extra-large cage for the mating pair to be locked in and removed two of the smaller cages.

As he slowly came to he heard the rapid gun-fire, there were flashes of explosions outside the window. One close enough that it shattered the glass, spraying it across the room. Isaac was huddled next to Scott in the cage, fear radiating from him as Scott held him close, growling at the glamour of noise from outside.

“We need to get out of here, and get somewhere safe,” Derek shouts against the noise of the explosions and gun-fire.

“Check on Danny and Jackson,” Stiles orders, “We’ll grab what we need and head down stairs; there should be a basement or something that would be safer.”

She could hear the noise coming from two… three floors up. The rapid fire bursts of assault rifles, interspersed with the occasional blast of grenades.

The electrics suddenly went off and her cell door unlocked; swinging open.

Erica warily steps out, the few other weres in the detainment wing doing likewise; all cautiously sniffing the air. There was no wolfsbane that she could detect.

The group of them stalk out of the wing and head to the stairs leading to the upper level, it was the only way they could go; despite leading to the floor where the humans being held would also be freed from their cells.

As Erica’s group head towards the door on the level above another scent hits them; other wolves. They aren’t sure where they came from and as they make through the door she can see they are menacingly backing a lone human towards one of the cells. It’s the man who stopped her owner beating her, they are stalking towards him with claws out and fangs snapping.

She rushes towards Boyd, turning to face the attacking wolves, their faces covered by masks with only their eyes visible, she allows her own claws and fangs to break through as she roars at the other wolves.

“ ** _No! Friend_**.” She can’t remember the last time she didn’t speak in barks and whines.

Allison jerks awake at the barrage of gun fire from outside. Jacob has placed himself between her and the noise; growling at the flash of light and roar of the explosions occurring.

She places a hand on his naked back, seeking to calm him. He leans into the touch, and growls out two words, “ _Bad dogs_.”

As she moves to creep towards the window Jacob whines and stretches out a hand to stop her.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, not sure why she is whispering, “I’ll be careful, I’m just going to look out the window.” It doesn’t stop Jacob’s distressed whine. With her body flush against the wall she peers around the edge of the windowsill into the street with only the half-light of the pre-dawn see by. She can see that the street lights are out; looking around her room it becomes clear that the power must be out, the LED of her clock, the TV’s power light, nothing appears to be working. She rushes to the side of her bed and picks up her cell phone. Only to find that it has no signal.

“I don’t think it’s just bad dogs that we need to worry about,” she whispers to Jacob as he crawls towards her, growling at the threat outside.

Melissa is jolted from sleep by what she at first mistakes as a car back-firing.

Glancing at her phone she sees that it is a little after four thirty in the morning; the boys will be arriving in another four hours to pick her up before they all head towards Bellingham, then towards the border. If things go to plan they will be in Canada before noon.

The rapid jarring sound of repeating rat-a-tat clutches heavy at her heart as she realises that it wasn’t a car she heard; it’s gun fire. She reaches for her phone again as in the distance multiple explosions sound and shake the windows. She has no dial tone and can see that there is no signal to make a call. Looking around it becomes clear that there is no power, the clock sitting dark and the street lights are out.

In the pale glimmer of light threatening to break the sky she can see the armoured jeeps pass the end of the street; and the troops of armed men with it, their lower face is covered by some kind of mask, only their eyes visible over the ominous black of what she assumes to be some kind of gas mask. Panic rises as she worries what is happening, most the sound of fighting coming from near the section of the city where hotel that Scott, Stiles and the boys are staying.

She quickly dresses in the dark, pulling on the clothes she had set aside for the morning. Outside she can hear the sound of pistols firing, quickly answered the automatic reply; the resistance being offered by her neighbours being decisively and swiftly dealt with. When the last nearby shots have fallen silent and the armed forces passed by she sneaks out to her car and begins to make her way to the hotel.

She sharply turns on several streets, avoiding the gunfire and bombing that is heavier the closer to the city centre that she drives. Two blocks from the hotel she has to abandon the car and hugging close to solid walls of the buildings rapidly makes her way to the hotel.

It looks like war zone, it is war zone. The hotel foyer littered with the fallen debris of an attack, still being patrolled by the armed soldiers now clearly dressed in Canadian uniforms. She sneaks past them to the elevators, making her way to the rooms that Stiles had told her they were staying in.

Her heart stops at the sight of the mangled cages, the torn and bloody sheets in the empty rooms.

She turns at the sound behind her, coming face to snarling red-eyed face with one of the invaders.

“ ** _Where’s my son?_** ” she roars at wolf facing him down with tears in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the masks to look something like [this](http://img.linkdelight.com/productmedia/DB173/DB173_show.jpg).
> 
> The uniforms I see as being like [these](http://img01.militaryblog.jp/usr/o/p/4/op4/PNW110-9257-BStrauss.jpg).
> 
> \------------
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-03
> 
> Stiles is sitting in the cell looking through the bars across at Danny sitting in the cell opposite. He can see Danny clearly, sitting with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor. The feeling of defeat evident in the slumped shoulders and bowed head.
> 
>  
> 
> He feels the side of his head. The bleeding has stopped, thankfully, though his eye still feels tender.
> 
>  
> 
> The wolves had stormed the room quickly, their lower faces covered by masks. He had barely gotten Scott and Isaac out of the cage they had spent the first night of Isaac’s heat in when they burst through the door. Scott shifted and took a defensive position in front of Isaac. Derek likewise shifted and was moving to protect him, but the other wolves were too quick.
> 
>  
> 
> Two were swiftly restraining Derek while Stiles suddenly felt the butt of a rifle connect with the side of his head. He turned to strike at the wolf but the punch from the wolf caught his eye and the next thing he knew the world was growing dark. Then he woke up here, wherever that is.
> 
>  
> 
> “Hey,” he calls out to Danny, “You okay?” Danny lifts his head and stares across at him; Stiles can now see the bruising around Danny’s swollen left eye, “Fuck your eye looks bad! Wait, how long have I been out?” Stiles blurts out.  
> “Since yesterday morning,” Danny replies, relief clear in his voice, “Jesus Stiles, I thought they had killed you! They don’t seem to like humans much.”  
> “Where are the rest of our pack?” Stiles asks, standing up and trying to peer through the bars to the other cells looking for them, “Derek? Scott?” he shouts.  
> “They’re not down here with us,” Danny answers before he continues shouting Isaac and Jackson’s names.


	3. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

“ ** _Where’s my son?_** ” Melissa roars at werewolf, facing him down with tears in her eyes as he stands in the doorway, blocking her exit from the room that Scott and Stiles were supposed to be in; that they clearly were in as she recognises some of their belongings strewn across the floor.  The room that is clearly the scene of fighting, from the broken cage and glass tumblers flecked with blood.

 

The werewolf growls at her from behind the mask covering his mouth and nose, his eyes filled with shimmering electric blue.

“ **Your eyes can glow as bright as they like; I am not afraid of you.  Now; Where.  Is.  My. Son,** ” she defiantly demands, anger giving her the courage to not back down from the wolf.

“ ** _Human_** ,” the wolf growls as he sniffs the air, “You should have stayed in your room like the rest of the indifferent; as if not ‘ _owning_ ’ an enslaved makes you blameless.”

“No, you don’t understand,” she says taking a step closer to the wolf, looking directly into his eyes, “My son is one of the enslaved wolves.  He was with friends, they were planning to try and get across the border.”

He sneers at her, his head cocked to one side as he leans forward.

“Not if he was one of the wolves in this room.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice wavering slightly in uncertainty; she is sure this is the right room.

“The human who was in this room was one of our high priority targets,” the wolf leans closer to her, her hand reaches into her pocket, grasping the silver edged letter opener she picked up as she left the house, “The enslaver of three wolves, one of the owners of Argent’s Pet Supplies.  We have him, and our commander intends to make an example of him,” her eyes widen at the wolves words, _they have Stiles, but where are Scott, Isaac and Derek?_

“Where are the wolves?” she needs to get to Scott; she needs to know he is okay.

“Why do you want to know human?”

“ **I already told you, because one of them is my son!** ” she screams at him.

“We have liberated the wolves he enslaved.”

 

 

Stiles is sitting in the cell looking through the bars across at Danny sitting in the cell opposite.  He can see Danny clearly, sitting with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor.  Danny’s slumped shoulders and bowed head showing how defeated he feels.

 

Stiles feels the side of his head.  The bleeding has stopped, thankfully; his eye still feels tender though.

 

Their room was quickly stormed by at least six wolves, their lower faces covered by masks.  He had barely gotten Scott and Isaac out of the cage they had spent the first night of Isaac’s heat in when they burst through the door.  Scott shifted and took a defensive position in front of Isaac.  Derek likewise shifted and was moving to protect him, but the other wolves were too quick.

 

Two were swiftly restraining Derek while Stiles suddenly felt the butt of a rifle connect with the side of his head.  He turned to strike at the wolf but the punch from the wolf caught his eye and the next thing he knew the world was growing dark.  Then he woke up here, wherever that is.

 

“Hey,” he calls out to Danny, “You okay?”  Danny lifts his head and stares across at him; Stiles can now see the bruising around Danny’s swollen left eye, “Fuck your eye looks bad!  Wait, how long have I been out?” Stiles blurts out.

“Since yesterday morning,” Danny replies, relief clear in his voice, “ _Jesus Stiles, I thought they had killed you!_   They don’t seem to like humans much.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance they have the rest of our pack down here with us?” Stiles asks, standing up and trying to peer through the bars to the other cells looking for them, “Derek? Scott?” he shouts.

“They’re not down here with us,” Danny answers before he continues shouting Isaac and Jackson’s names.

 

Stiles feels the worry bubbling in the pit of his gut.  _Where is his pack?  And what is happening to them?_

“Do we know anything?” Stiles asks, before babbling on, “And when I say we I mean you because apparently being partly alpha wolf means a full beta werewolf can still knock me unconscious for a day…”

“Stiles,” Danny interrupts.

“Sorry, I’m babbling, but in my defence we’ve been taken by some unknown, probably Canadian, group of werewolves, who have my mate, my best friend and his mate, and Jackson and we don’t know what they are doing with them and I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack and I haven’t had one of those since my mom died…”

“Stiles,” Danny interrupts again, “They won’t be harming them; they said they were here to liberate the enslaved.  They’re Canadian; instead of us crossing the border into Canada, they’ve come to us.”

“Are you **_sure_** they’re Canadian?” Stiles arches an eyebrow at him, “Because from the look of your eye and the way my head feels they were a lot less polite than I expected; _a gang of New York cabbies I could believe_.”  Danny didn’t seem to find his joke amusing.

“Either way they won’t harm Jackson, Isaac, Scott or Derek.  They liberate wolves, they don’t hurt them; I’d be more worried about us.  Don’t forget that to them we’re just slave owners.  Well not you, they **_really_** hate you.”

“ ** _Me?_** ” Stiles brow furrows in confusion, “How can they hate me?  They don’t even know me, and I was working with the Deaton’s were rights group!”

“I don’t think they know, or they don’t care, that you were working with Deaton,” Danny says, “What they do know, and care about, is that you own part of Argent Pet Supplies, and that you ‘ _own_ ’ two delta werewolves that you planned to breed.  Apparently they know you’re the head of Argent Pet Supplies new Delta Breeding Program.”

“ **What?  That’s not true!** ” Stiles cries in outrage.  He knows he wasn’t planning to breed anyone.  Not the way the Canadians thought he was, and what he and his mate did privately was no-one else’s business, “That’s totally out of context.”

 

 

Melissa was getting tired of waiting.  She really needs to sleep, but how could she?  She won’t be able to rest until they finally let her see her son.  They just kept telling her that she couldn’t see Scott, _not yet_ , as his mate Isaac was in heat.  _Since when were Isaac and Scott mates?  They hadn’t mentioned anything about it yesterday_.

 

She tried to get to see Stiles and Danny, but they wouldn’t listen to her when she said they were not what they thought they were; any conversation about Stiles quickly soured their moods.  These wolves had very fixed ideas about Stiles, and nothing she said would change their minds.  It probably didn’t help that she had only just begun to change her own mind about him.

 

All she could do was wait in her ‘room’; if you could call a cell in the WERES facility a room.  They even had a guard outside the door; for her protection, like she believed that.  The phones were still not working, so she couldn’t get a hold of Deaton.  She didn’t know how far the invasion reached; was it just this state?  She felt just as helpless as she did when WERES had taken Scott from her.

 

 

Boyd sat in the chair, in one of the interrogation rooms.

 

After Erica had stopped the werewolves attacking him they had been separated again.  He wasn’t sure where they had taken her, but he was now locked in this grey room that was nothing more than four blank walls, a table and two chairs.  He was siting slumped on the chair facing the door.  Waiting.

 

He can’t be sure how long he’s been waiting, he still hasn’t got his watch back, when the door opens and two uniformed men walk in, though he’s sure they are wolves and can clearly see that they are twins; one of them sits in the chair opposite him, placing a laptop on the table and opens it up, the other sits on the edge of the table.

 

“I’m Lieutenant Aiden Carver,” the wolf sitting on the table calmly states, “And this is my brother, Lieutenant Ethan Carver.  Now, we just finished talking with Erica Reyes, and our talk brought up a few questions we’d like to ask you.”

“Okay,” Boyd answers knowing that it wasn’t really a question, and trying not to let his unease at the feral smile that breaks across the beta werewolf’s face show.

“Let’s start with why you were in the cells in this place to begin with,” the one with the savage smile, Aiden, asks while his brother types at the laptop, “And your reasons for taking those actions.”

 

They spend what feels like hours discussing why he did what he did; why he said what he did; why he felt he need to act now and not sooner.  He’d like to know the answer to that one himself.  He had never been comfortable with the enslavement of werewolves, unlike most of his generation seemed to be; but it was what they had grown up with, it was the norm.

It’s only when he makes what was intended to be a passing comment about an incident in one of his classes that the topic of discussion changes.

 

“I suppose the catalyst for my need to take action was when I realised that not all, and I’m only using the terms because I can’t think of another way to say it,” Boyd is telling them, “but not all owners seemed to treat wolves the same, and that all wolves didn’t treat the humans the same.

See, I tend not to be noticed, just sitting on the side-lines of life, and I get to notice, to observe what is happening around me.  And then in this one class I really start to see it.  Mr Harris is being an ass-hat to Stilinski again, but Derek, Stilinski’s wolf, starts to get between them, really growling at Harris, but is isn’t just Derek that has Stilinski’s back, all the wolves in the class have this low growl going on; Scott, Jackson, even Erica despite getting a kick from her owner keeps growling at Harris, but he and everyone else in the class is focussed on Derek.  And it’s only when Stilinski says to be quiet that they all stop.

So I was curious about him, and I pay attention; I see how on the surface it looks like he treats his wolf the same way every owner does.  He talks like he does, everyone talks like he’s this total bad-ass of an owner; they talk about how he tried to stop two wolves escaping from the school when Whittemore and McCall were enslaved; but it just doesn’t make sense.

For a start, why was he even anywhere near that area when they were escaping?  And how did he not manage to raise an alarm?  And if he is such tyrannical owner that the wolves he owns wouldn’t dare disobey, how come they look at him with such adoration?

The only thing I could think of was that he doesn’t treat them the way it looks; he treats them like people, not like animals.  I mean he doesn’t even feed them kibble at school, I’m sure he thinks he’s being subtle but I’ve seen him, he’s always slipping them food off his plate.  That’s when I knew I had to do something.”

 

“So, you know Stiles Stilinski?” the wolf seems to suddenly leap on the comment about Stiles.

“Yeah, sort of, I mean it’s not like we hang out together or nothing; he’s at the same school as me, we have some classes together,” he answers.

“Tell me more about Stilinski.”

 

 

Allison reaches out to Jacob, trying to calm him from the snarling angry stance he has taken between her and the six wolves that have invaded their home.  One of them, she seems to be the officer in charge, is trying to talk Jacob their side.

 

“We’re not here to hurt you,” she says, her attention focussed on Jacob, “I’m Malia, we’re with the Canadian Human and Werewolf Alliance.  We’re here to free you, to take you away from…”

Allison can tell that Jacob doesn’t understand most of what Malia has said, but his distressed whine at ‘take you away from’ is too much.

“ ** _You’re upsetting him!_** ” she seethes at the women, laying a hand on Jacob’s back; he leans into her touch, “He doesn’t understand most of what you’re saying, but telling him that you are going to take him away from me is not going to calm him down.”  At Malia’s look of confusion Allison continues, “Jacob isn’t a bitten or free born wolf, he was bred and raised in a breeding facility; all he has ever known is being a slave-pet and being owned.  They don’t give bred wolves any form of education other than how to be obedient.”

The snarls that come from the wolves with Malia cause Jacob to tense under her touch, she can feel the low thrum of his answering growl.

 

“We have our orders,” Malia coldly states, “If we can’t calm him enough that he will come willingly we have to sedate him; and then we will take you and your father for questioning Ms Argent.”

“My dad is still in Salt Lake City,” Allison replies as she sees the gun being lifted and aimed at Jacob, “No wait,” she shouts, pulling Jacob behind her and stepping in front of him.  The dart catches in her neck, but something is wrong.  She can’t breathe.  It feels as if her whole throat has swollen as she gasps for air that she can’t get.  She feels herself fall to the ground, she hears Jacob’s panicked voice as he breaks with his training and calls her name, speaking.

The last thing she is aware of before the darkness takes her is the feel of Jacob falling across her body.

 

 

“I want my Mate, take me to Stiles NOW,” Derek roared at her, she sat staring at him.  Her expression impassive.

“That’s not going to happen and you know it,” she calmly stated, “You and the other werewolves you were with will never see those former owners again.”

“ **LAURA! You. Don’t. Get. To. Decide.** ”  Derek seethes at his sister, she just won’t listen to him.

“Der, I know you’re upset,” she tries to soothe him, but she might as well be dragging her claws down a chalkboard for the effect her words have on him, “but it’s just the effects of the kibble they have been feeding you…”

“My Mate stopped feeding us the kibble,” he growls at her, “I’m not affected by…”

“Derek,” she sharply interrupts him, “I know you’re not thinking clearly right now.  That… _human_ … is not your mate, not really, he’s just using you.”

“ ** _No he is not!_** ” he snarls at her, she just won’t listen, and it’s frustrating him.

“Yes Der he is,” she shouts back at him, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but he is just using you like Kate did!”

 

Derek’s eyes widen in fear and horror.

 

She can’t know about him and Kate; nobody knew.

 

“Der, it wasn’t your fault,” she reaches out to him, but he shrinks back from her touch, “Der, please,” she pleads, “ ** _It wasn’t your fault_**.  You were young, and a delta looking for someone forceful to lead them and **_she_** manipulated you.  I know that, now, _and I won’t let him do that to you_.”

“You don’t know anything,” he snaps at her.

“What, you gonna tell me that my first reaction to working out that you were the reason she was able to capture our pack, our family, was right, that you must have known all along what she was, and what she was up to, was right?”

“ ** _No!_** ”

“Damn right.  But I blamed you for the longest time, until I was able to let go of my anger and think about it.  When I looked back at that night, thought about how lost and hurt you looked I knew that she was responsible, not you; that she had duped you, used your naivety to gain your trust.  And you probably thought she was your mate, just like you think he is.”

“No!” he rails against her, “It’s not like that at all.”

“Then what is it like Der?”

 

He can see she has made her mind up, but, despite her stubbornness, he has try and explain.

“Yes, Kate fooled me; but she never gained the trust of my wolf.  I just ignored what my instincts were telling me, because you’re right, I was looking for someone, and there she was the older, experienced Domme, who was interested in me, who wanted me.  It wasn’t until the night they attacked us that I realised how stupid I’d been…”

“See, this is why you need me to look out for you; we’re family, pack, and…”

“ ** _No Laura_** , let me finish; you may be family and you may be an alpha, but you are not my alpha.  **_Stiles is my alpha_** ,” Derek pulls back from her, can clearly see the shock in her eyes, “When he bought me from Argents, and Kate didn’t like that, I fought him at first.  But this time it was me not trusting him, not believing him, and my instincts, my wolf, that was saying to trust him.  Eventually this time I listened to my instincts, and my wolf was right, again, just like it had been about Kate.

Stiles only ended up owning part of Argents because of Kate trying to get me back from him.  He was working with Deaton, to get info on Argent’s to feed to the Were Rights Group.  I’m pregnant with his kids Laura, and Deaton thinks that is why I’m not being affected by the kibble; Deaton doesn’t know if it’s permanent or not, but Stiles wanted to move our pack to Canada so that WERES couldn’t take our kids away, so he never got to do any more tests.”

 

“What?  _He was working with Deaton?_ ”  Derek can hear the sarcasm in her tone, “Der, I don’t know what he’s told you, but Deaton has never mentioned him.  We know Deaton has Ms Martin working with him, despite her age, but if Stilinski was part of Deaton’s team why wouldn’t he have told us when he was in contact with us a week ago?”  Derek feels the rumble of the growl ripple through him, “After what we have heard about Stilinski I wouldn’t let any wolf be held by him, let alone family, _and you are pack_ , no matter what you think right now.”  He can hear the certainty that she is right in her voice, “ _If_ he isn’t the manipulative human werewolf slave trader that I think he is, I’ve fucked up.”  But again the arrogance that she believes what she says is true and that Derek is wrong is glaringly obvious to him.

“ ** _Laura, you’ve fucked up_** ,” because although Derek knows that his mate can be a manipulative shit when he wants to be, it isn’t Derek he has been manipulating; it’s the Argents.

 

 

Scott curls himself against his mate’s back.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers against his ear, “I promise you.”

Isaac just pushes back against the warmth, pulling Scott’s arms tighter around him.  He doesn’t speak.

 

They’ve been locked together in this room since they were brought here; kept apart from their pack.  For Isaac’s protection, because he was in heat and should be alone with his mate, not put on show in a cage for everyone to stare at.

 

They tried to explain it wasn’t like that.  Their master had tried to get them a heat room but the hotel didn’t have one available, that he had covered the cage to give them privacy.  It didn’t matter what they said, the other wolves didn’t believe them; they just seemed to think that they were, as they put it, ‘ _kibble-addled_ ’ and would say anything to protect Stiles and Danny.

 

Which they would, but they were telling the truth.

 

Isaac’s heat has stopped.  A lot sooner than it should have.  It hasn’t spiked since they were taken, since they saw the wolf smash the rifle butt into the side of Stiles’ head and he collapsed.  There was a lot of blood.

 

They don’t know if he is alright.  They don’t know what is happening to him, or what is going to happen to them.  All they can do is cling to each other.  Scott can feel Isaac tremble in his arms, can feel how scared he is, and how worried he is.  He’s worried too, but he has to be strong for Isaac, has to keep telling him how ‘ _it’s all gonna work out, everything will be fine_ ’.

 

He just has to convince himself too.

 

 

Stiles and Danny both turned to the sound of a lock turning and a door being opened; neither could see clearly, but they heard the hard click-clack of high heeled shoes striding down the corridor and the soft scuffle of someone quickly following.  The exchange between the two people who had entered the area with their cells as they headed towards them made Stiles frown as they heard their voices.

 

“…but Ma’am, Alpha Major Hale expressly forbid anyone…”

“Corporal, Major Hale is going to have a lot more to worry about, and I outrank her.”

“Yes, Alpha Colonel.”

 

They stopped outside their cells, they had their back to Stiles as the female officer looked in on Danny, but they are clearly not wearing the masks that the soldiers that attacked them had.

“Has a doctor looked at your eye?” she asks him.

“No…”

“Have the doctor take a look at him immediately,” she orders the corporal.

“Yes Ma’am,” he replies as she turns to Stiles’ cell.

“Hello Grzegorz,” she softly says smiling tenderly at him; and that smile and voice he knew, he remembered them and had missed them for so long, “How is my mały tygrysku?”

“ _Mom?_ ”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRZEGORZ  
> PRONOUNCED: GZHE-gawsh  
> Pronunciation: G-je-go-sh  
> • G - as in 'go'  
> • Je - just like the french pronunciation  
> • Go - straight forward  
> • Sh - straight forward
> 
> Mój mały -- My little one  
> mały tygrysku -- little tiger  
> 
> 
> \------------
> 
>   
> 
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-4
> 
> “Why aren’t you dead?” Stiles blurts out, “Not that I’m not happy you’re alive, except for the fact that dad, and me, have been living with the aching pain of your death…”  
> “I’m sorry,” his mom interrupts him, “I didn’t see any other way to protect you both.”  
> “But…”  
> “Mały tygrysku,” no-one had called him _‘little tiger’_ since his mom _‘died’_ , not even his dad, he feels his throat tighten as he holds back the sob that wants to escape, “I had to; some people were getting suspicious and I couldn’t let WERES start to investigate our family. I had to protect you no matter how much it hurt.”
> 
> He couldn’t hold himself back any longer and launched at his mom, wrapping his arms around her as she embraced him, hugging her tightly to him.  
> “I’ve missed you mom,” he cries against her neck.


	4. Alpha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

“Why aren’t you dead?” Stiles blurts out, “Not that I’m not happy you’re alive, except for the fact that dad, and me, have been living with the aching pain of your **fake** death…”

“I’m sorry,” his mom interrupts him, “After I… changed, I didn’t see any other way to protect you both.”

“But…”

“Mały tygrysku,” no-one had called him ‘ _little tiger_ ’ since his mom ‘ _died_ ’, not even his dad, he feels his throat tighten as he holds back the sob that wants to escape, “I know. All these years I’ve wondered if I could have found another way, a better way, and wondered whether I should have taken you with me; but I had to. Some people were getting suspicious and I couldn’t let WERES start to investigate our family. I had to protect you no matter what; I thought I was doing what was best, for you and your father.”

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer and launched at his mom, wrapping his arms around her as she embraced him, hugging her tightly to him.

“I’ve missed you mom,” he cries against her neck.

“I’m missed you too kiddo,” she sighs back, “Now what’s this about you getting involved with the Argents?”

“They just kinda gave it to me.”

“They just **_gave_** you a multimillion dollar company?”

So, Stiles explains to his mom how he ended up owning thirty percent of Argents’ Pet Supplies; covering everything he had told Melissa McCall, from not being able to save Scott, to his plan to get his pack across the border to Canada.

His mom looks sorrowful as he talks, her eyes hazy and filled with heartbreak.

“I wish your father had allowed you to buy Scott,” his mom’s words shock him, “You probably wouldn’t have become mixed up in this, and be here now. Deaton was never supposed to involve you.”

Once Stiles would have agreed with her about wishing he got to buy Scott back then, **_but not now_**. If his dad hadn’t stopped him then he would never have met Derek, Isaac would have still been in that… _place_ , and how much longer would Gerard Argent have sat on the truth about the kibble?

“No,” Stiles’ brow creases at the thoughts, “I mean I didn’t agree with dad’s decision at the time, but it’s all worked out in the end; and he’s with me now anyway. And if things hadn’t happened the way they did I wouldn’t have met Derek or Isaac. Anyway, we may not have made it to Canada, but now with Canada making it here and your help I can still get my pack across the border and to safety.” He doesn’t comment on the ‘ _Deaton was never supposed to involve you_ ’, clearly Deaton has known all along that his mom was alive; nor does he ask about the tests she had Deaton carry out on him, now isn’t the time.

“No,” his mom says quietly, “You wouldn’t have gotten across the border, and why do you need to now.”

“What? Why?” Stiles startles at the words, “Things will be better for the pack in Canada, better for Derek and our kids; I mean like if the invasion fails or…”

“One, thanks for the vote of confidence, and two, no you wouldn’t be able to get across the border. Canada isn’t letting any more people, enter the country, _whether werewolves or not_ ,” his mom words shock him; _Canada was Sanctuary, it always allowed the wolves to enter, it always protected them from the rest of the world_. When she answers he knows he commented aloud and instead of just in his head like the thought.

“The cities are overcrowded, the schools, housing, and public services stretched to breaking point. There isn’t the food or the jobs to support the people that are already there. Canada can’t let anyone in, it’s already falling apart with the strain of those that are there.”

“That’s why Canada’s invading?” It came out sounding like a question as soon as it clicked in Stiles’ mind. If Canada was really having so much economic trouble the invasion of Alaska, and now here, would starting a war really solve their problems?

“Yes, though technically it isn’t Canada that’s invading, exactly, it’s the humans and werewolves who fled there from around the world and their allies; the _Canadian Human And Werewolf Alliance_ ,” his mom answers.

“But the uniforms?” Stiles hears Danny ask from his cell where there’s a doctor checking his eye, he feels a growl rumble softly in his chest at the man standing over Danny.

“The uniforms may be using the CUEPAT and…”

“The what?” Stiles interrupts.

“Canadian Urban Environment Pattern,” Danny replies, “It was the camo and maple leaf insignia that made me think Canadians, but wolf’s head confused me; I put it down to some new unit for werewolves.”

“Kind of, but mostly so that Canada can maintain diplomatic ties to the United States” Stiles’ mom replies, “We aren’t officially part of the Canadian forces, so the States can’t retaliate against Canada without violating U.N. peace treaties. Though we’re launching the attacks from their soil. This was Canada can defend itself against reprisal attacks while not taking offensive action. If the U.S. attempts to attack without justification Canada can count on the U.N. supporting her,” she says turning to face him; she turns back to Stiles and smiles, “Now come on, let’s go find your pack Grzegorz.”

“Stiles,” he tells her, “Everyone calls me Stiles now, it’s sort of a nickname.”

“She’s stable,” Deaton says, but he can tell that it means nothing to Jacob as the young werewolf continues struggling against the bonds that hold him. Deaton looks to the coyote sitting to the left of the bound wolf, Malia Tate she had introduced herself as. He was supposed to have been contacted before any incursion took place, he was going to tell her then about Stiles; something he had been stalling on doing for too long. Claudia had always told him to keep her son out of this, but if what he and Marin have found is to be believed Stiles was involved long before he allowed Lydia approach him. But he knows Claudia will make her displeasure known and he is not looking forward to it; he just hopes that when she finds out there is time for her to.

“I don’t believe there will be any permanent damage,” he says, shrugging off his thoughts, “However, we will need to wait until she awakens to be certain; there was a significant amount of time during the extreme allergic reaction that her body was starved of oxygen. Why was the gun loaded with a tranquiliser specifically formulated to affect a werewolf with a single shot? Given that your team was going into a scenario where you expected to encounter humans, would it not have been more logical to have a human tranquiliser loaded and give the werewolves a double dosage?” he asks her.

“ ** _No_** ,” Malia tersely replies, he can tell there is a lot of anger in the young coyote, “We weren’t expecting any human to step in front of a shot being aimed at a werewolf, and frankly _human_ casualties were expected.”

“Then why the effort to save Ms Argent?” Deaton asks, “Someone at the scene performed a tracheotomy and saved her life. Why bother to run her here at all? Humans don’t seem to be your priority.”

“She wasn’t what I expected, she seemed to really care for him,” Malia says as she turns to look at Jacob, “And his reaction, when she was shot, we were told that the werewolves the Argents bred to sell couldn’t speak, only bark and whine, but he spoke, he called her name and called us ‘ _bad dogs_ ’, she taught him to speak, and to read.”

“How do you know that?” Deaton asks, “Perhaps he just picked up some words.”

“No, we found some books hidden in her room, the type of books that you would use to teach a child to read, and given his reaction,” Malia says nodding her head in Jacob’s direction, “They are much closer than a master and slave.”

“Jacob,” Deaton tries to get the wolf’s attention as he kneels in front of him; Jacob continues growling in struggling against the restraints. Deaton turns to Malia, “Are these necessary?” he asks indicating the metal restraints.

“That depends on how hard you like to be bit. He’s continuously attacked us whenever the opportunity has presented itself. I prefer not to get mauled, so yeah, I think they are necessary.”

“Jacob,” Deaton tries again, “Jacob, if I arrange for you to sit with Allison,” her name draws Jacob’s attention to him, “If I let you sit beside her do you promise not to attack the other wolves if we take the restraints off?”

“Allison?” Jacob whimpers.

Deaton has Malia remove the restraints, but Jacob’s focus remains on Deaton and he follows him docilely into the room beside Allison. Jacob collapses into the seat beside the examination table she is lying on, whimpering in clear distress.

“There is nothing more I can do, hopefully she will come around soon,” Deaton says, turning his attention to Malia, “If not we will need to move her to an actual hospital for a human doctor to examine her more thoroughly than I can.”

“Calm down _Red_ ,” Stiles hears a woman’s voice growl out.

“ **Don’t. Call. Me. That!** ” he hears Derek growl back.

He follows his mom through the double doors into the room, Danny on his heels. Derek is standing on one side of a desk, his hands flat on the surface of the desk as he leans over growling at the women in a similar stance on the other side.

“Hey Derek, I thought we had all that grouchiness under control?” Stiles calls as they enter the room. Derek turns to face him and then quickly runs to his side, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him solidly against him, nearly pushing the air from Stiles’ lungs.

“Hey Der, ease up. With hugs like these I may end up with cracked ribs,” Stiles jokes before asking, “Are you okay? Where are Scott and Isaac? And Jackson?”

“ ** _What are they doing out of the cells?_** ” the female Derek was arguing with snarls before he can answer him; her question is clearly aimed at Stiles mom.

“I’d suggest you remember your place Major Hale,” his mom replies.

“ _Hale?_ ” Stiles asks, “ _You’re related?_ ” he asks Derek.

“ ** _Alpha Laura Hale_** ,” she snarls at him.

“ ** _Hale!_** ” his mom barks at her, “I think you have enough problems to worry about without angering me further.”

“What have you done Laura?” Derek’s voice is barely a low growl as he asks.

“I did what was necessary,” she scowls in reply, “You’re my brother, it’s my responsibility as your alpha to…”

“ ** _You’re not his alpha!_** ” Stiles roars in anger at her words; his hand griping possessively at the back of Derek’s neck. Derek leans into touch, gravitating towards him; Stiles gives into the need to rub his cheek against him, to cover his mate in his scent and ensure there is no mistaking that Derek is his.

“He is my brother. My family. My pack!” Laura retorts, “I risked everything for him, and I would do it again!”

“You risked too much for one werewolf,” Stiles’ mom says, “You disobeyed your orders.”

“ **To save my brother!** ”

“ ** _I didn’t need saving!_** ” Derek growls at her, “I was safe with my pack, and with my mate.”

“Major, you diverted troops from their intended objectives in Southern California to Seattle, and you initiated the attack ahead of schedule,” Stiles pulls Derek closer to him, watching as his mom stalks towards Laura, “You have cost the lives of werewolves in the San Diego area who did not have the support they should because of your actions; not to mention the added human casualties. The council have ordered that you be relieved of duty until a tribunal can be…”

“ **I had to act!** ” Laura shouts over Stiles’ mom, “I had to make sure I got Derek free, after what we have heard about **_your_** son. So I started the invasion a day ahead of schedule. I knew they were going to be in Seattle at that hotel; it was my only chance.”

“Your actions were reckless and unnecessary. One day later they would still have been just as safe. They were headed for the border where they would have been detained; and then returned here, to the nearest WERES facility. The very building we are in. There were enough forces already allocated to take Seattle and secure the state; instead you countermanded **_my_** orders and redirected half the units from southern California; because of your actions we haven’t been able to secure Los Angeles and San Diego, the forces deployed in California having been spread too thin with the numbers you redirected here.”

“The only reason you didn’t do the same when you knew **_he_** ,” Laura sharply jerks her head in Stiles’ direction, “Was here is because you knew that as a _human_ he was safe.” She turns to Derek, her eyes pleading, “Red, you know it’s true.” Stiles steps between them before anyone can react.

“Listen very carefully, Alpha Major Laura Hale,” he bites out each word, “And pay close attention to my heart beat, just so you know what I say is true.

One, Derek has already told you that you didn’t need to save him, that he was safe.

Two, he is not part of your pack, he is mine and it’s my responsibility to keep my mate safe.”

Laura swings her hand out to hit him, but Stiles deftly catches her wrist in a firm grip.

“Three, Derek already told you not to call him Red; I don’t need know where the nickname came from but he doesn’t like it. He’s told you to stop calling him that, now I am.”

He’s suddenly aware of how quiet the room has gone, and he feels the wet warmth running down his hand and wrist that is gripping Laura; the red stands out in stark contrast as it trickles down over the pale white of his skin.

“Oh,” the surprise in his voice breaking the silence as he swiftly lets go of her wrist; small claws still peeking out from the top of his fingers.

“Your eyes,” Laura gasps, her own eyes wide in shock, “They were red, alpha red!”

“Like you were told, you aren’t Derek’s alpha, I am.”

“But WERES would have tested your blood,” Laura exclaims, clearly not knowing what to make of him; but then he doesn’t know what to make of himself.

“Yeah, well, Deaton can explain when you finally bother to talk to him,” he turns to his mom, “So, if someone can show me where the rest of my pack is being held; I want to check that Isaac and Scott are okay, and someone should take Danny to wherever you’re holding Jackson.”

Scott sits back down beside his mate, a smile creeping onto his face at the thought, and he pulls him tightly against him. He had opened the door and headed into the outer chamber of the heat room they were in. There had been no sign of any of the soldiers, when he called out there was no answer, so now all they can do is wait until someone comes to check on them.

They hear the sound of the footsteps first; Scott places himself between the door and Isaac. Then as the door of the heat room opens and the scent falls into the room relief washes over them as they rush forward, bowling into Stiles; his arms wrapping around them both as each buries their noses against either side of his neck, taking his scent and the comfort that it gives them. Derek stops in the doorway behind Stiles.

“Hey guys,” Stiles says, rubbing his cheek alternately against them, “How’s things going in here?”

“Better now,” Scott sighs, and knows that Stiles is aware something is wrong.

“Isaac?” Stiles turns his head to face him, “What’s wrong?”

“My…” Isaac stumbles over the words, and Scott can’t stop the growl that comes out at their master, even though he knows it’s not Stiles’ fault.

“His heat has ended early,” Derek says as he pulls Isaac into a hug; Isaac wraps his arms around him, easily taking the comfort that the other delta gives him.

Scott feels the weight of Stiles gaze on him.

“What happened? What did they do?” Stiles asks.

“He… we were stressed from when they locked us in here,” Scott can’t meet Stiles’ eyes, he feels he should have done more to protect Isaac, and their pack. Stiles’ fingers hook under his chin and pull his gaze upwards as his other hand cups at the back of his neck, kneading at the tension and worry, “We didn’t know what they were doing to you, or why they wouldn’t let us be with you; and his heat never came back.”

“Stress,” Derek states, “Both our heats will be irregular for a while, Isaac may get another soon if we get back to our normal routine.”

"At least you had a mattress and some privacy; that must have been better than at the hotel,” Stiles tries to make light of situation.

“No,” Isaac snaps as he turns in Derek’s arms to face their master, “It didn’t smell like pack, at the hotel I knew I was with my pack and was safe, here me and Scott were alone, we didn’t have our pack. I needed you close, so I knew I was safe. They said we weren’t going to be with you any more, we were scared.”

Stiles looks at Scott and can see him blushing as he looks to the ground. He pulls them all into a group hug that lands as pile on the mattress.

“I’m not letting them take any of you from me,” Stiles says with certainty, “You’re mine and I won’t give any of you up, we’re pack.”

They had moved Allison Argent to the hospital; she had slipped into a coma, in all probability due to oxygen deprivation during the reaction to the werewolf sedative. There was also some swelling of the brain tissue, again probably related to the oxygen deprivation she experienced. The doctors were monitoring her condition; there had been no eye movement, no movement of any kind, and no sounds made by her. All they were doing at the moment was monitoring her condition. Due to recent events they had been unable to contact her father.

Deaton watched as the young werewolf sat unmoving beside her bed. He was almost as unmoving as Allison. Deaton was sure that the bowl of pasta on the bedside table was the same one left there last night; untouched. He doesn’t think that Jacob has eaten or drank anything since they were captured by Malia and her team.

“Jacob,” he tries to coax him into responding to him, but all he does is sit there, his eyes pleading for her to awaken. Deaton knows that Jacob has been affected by the kibble, that his affection and obedience to Allison is part of that affect; but it is only partly because of the kibble. Deaton is sure that affection is not just because of the kibble; what he isn’t sure of is the condition that Jacob will be in if Allison doesn’t waken.

Danny barely has time to step into the room before he is nearly bowled over by the momentum of Jackson barrelling at him and being wrapped in his arms. Jackson rubs his face over his cheeks, ensuring that their scents are mingled.

He remembers reading about scenting when studying for the WERES exam, recalls how he thought it was very animalistic at the time. Now… now he loves it, and Jackson knows the effect it has on him.

“I thought they were never letting me see you again,” Jackson breathes over the shell of his ear as he brushes his nose over the skin at the back of his ear, “I was so worried.”

“It’s okay,” his voice his husky with want from the heat of Jackson pressed firmly against him, “Stiles…” Danny doesn’t finish his thought; the need Jackson had been building in him washed away by his next comment.

“Alpha takes care of us,” Jackson’s words are like being plunged in ice cold water. They kill the passion Jackson had been building in him and stop his train of thought.

Jackson feels the sudden change in his master’s mood. He doesn’t know what he has done wrong and the worry begins to rise; the fear that they will go back to the way it was before has never left him. As he pulls back from his master he sees the bruising over his eye and his eyes widen in shock. He’d been so happy when he came into the room he didn’t even notice.

“My eye will be fine, don’t worry about it,” his owner says to him when he sees his reaction, “You think of Stiles as your alpha?” The question puzzles him, for the past few months he had seen how his master deferred to Stiles, wasn’t he supposed to accept Stiles as their alpha?

“Isn’t he our alpha?” he asks, “Don’t you follow his lead?”

His master his quiet, and he wonders if he has said the wrong thing.

“Yeah, I guess he is our alpha,” he finally says, and Jackson relaxes against him.

“Come on, let’s see if we can find someone in here to get us some food,” his master says as he takes his hand and leads him from the room.

Boyd has noticed that he is one of the few humans that are not being kept locked in the cells of the Beacon Hills WERES facility. He’s allowed to use the common room, and to eat his food in the cafeteria.

When he enters the room to get some breakfast he can see that the werewolves and the, very few humans, are all sitting at different tables. He spots Erica sitting alone at one table and walks up to her with his plate of grilled bacon, sausage, eggs and ham.

“So, the breakfast is very meat heavy,” he says as he sits, aware of the sudden unnerving silence around him. He sees Erica look at the tables around them as he ignores the feeling of every set of eyes on him.

“Yeah,” she says, he can tell she is finding it difficult to talk; aware of the fact she has not been allowed to speak since being enslaved, but he wants to encourage her to find her voice again.

He smiles at her as he takes a bite of one of the sausages on his plate and catches a glimpse of smile curling on her lips; it makes his smile wider.

“What?” she asks, biting at her bottom lip, worrying that something is wrong; he doesn’t want that, he’s seen her worried and scared and doesn’t want to see that again.

“There’s nothing wrong,” he answers, “It’s just good to see you smile again, I need to find a way to make you do it more often.”

She ducks her head, blushing at his comment. But she is smiling again.

Melissa is shocked.

She supposes that really she shouldn’t be. There was a lot about Claudia Stilinski’s death that didn’t add up at the time. It was part of the reason that John had found it so difficult to accept, and the strain that put on both him and Stiles.

And here she is, nearly ten years later standing in front of her; now the commander of this invasion, and asking for her help.

“What was the plan?” she asks.

“It was simple,” Claudia replies, “We knew from Alaska that once we had secured the main cities and towns the local populace that doesn’t support werewolf enslavement, both human and free wolves, would join and help maintain our control. On the west coast we know that support for us is in the majority.”

“So why do you need my help?” Melissa still doesn’t know what Claudia wants her to do.

“We need medical support for the fighting still happening, particularly in the south, I want you to take charge of the Medical Corps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-05 - Resistance (Part-1)
> 
> Laura fastens the _muzzle_ over her mouth and nose; muzzle is what most wolves refer to the mask used to filter out the wolfsbane poisoning the air since the attacks on the kibble factories. They’ve upgraded the air filtration systems in the buildings they have secured, so indoors they don’t need to wear them, but until a cure is found and the affects neutralised the wolves need to wear them when outdoors. Especially alphas, given the effect it has on them is entirely the opposite of betas and deltas; causing them to become feral and rabid like in their behaviour.
> 
> And as much as she hates the muzzle she needs to get out of the building. Her reunion with Derek hasn’t gone as she expected; these past days the tension between them just seems to have escalated. She can see him tense up whenever she comes near him.
> 
> Once the secure communications were up and running the reports started coming in from the deployments across the four states. It wasn’t good.


	5. Resistance (Part-1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Chris had been trying to contact Allison for days. But no-one was getting through to Northern California, Oregon, Washington or the North West of Idaho. The news was filled with the reports of the invasion; at first stating that it was Canada, but now that it was a well organised and funded paramilitary group of escaped slave-pets from around the world that had fled to Canada. The news sites and stations across the country quoted ‘sources’ that they included feral alphas affected by the wolfsbane in the atmosphere, and that they were infecting the populace of the towns and cities in the states that they had taken.

There was no legal route back to Beacon Hills; every flight grounded, train cancelled, and every highway and road blockaded. The President herself had appeared on national TV calling for ‘ _calm in this desperate hour_ ’ as she declared the need for martial law and mobilized the National Guard to man the borders with the states currently invaded until they were retaken and order restored. She even confirmed the rumours that feral alphas had been forcing the bite on the human populations of the states in order to turn them; claiming it was the only reason that Alaska had not been retaken as the population of the state she had been governor of would never have fought against their own forces otherwise.

Every hunter knew it was bullshit though. There was no way there were enough alphas to bite so many people, and the resulting death toll would leave the west coast a barren wasteland from those rejecting the bite.

He had been forced to contact some of his father’s dubious associates in an attempt to find a way back into California and then up to Beacon Hills. Being stuck in Utah was not where he needed to be when his daughter was in the middle of a war zone.

Which is how he finds himself waiting on a contact in a bar on West Broadway in Salt Lake City. He doesn’t know who, only that they will know him and initiate contact. He’s sitting in a quiet corner where he can keep an eye out on his surroundings when they arrive and start making their way towards him. And he knows he doesn’t keep the shock off his face.

“Well hello brother, I hear you need my help,” Kate says as she take the seat next to him at the table.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a detention facility under lock and key?” he asks her.

“I was, but there was this explosion at a kibble factory nearby and some of us less dangerous inmates were being moved to more open facility while repairs were being carried out to our wing,” she smiles at him, “Somehow I never made it there and no one seems to have noticed.”

“How co…” 

“That’s hardly important now is it,” Kate interrupts, a stern look in her eyes, “What is important is that my niece is alone with only some weak bred slave-pet at her side.”

“I wouldn’t have thought…”

“Of course I care about Allison, I don’t blame her for what happened to me, she was being misled by the _Stilinski boy_ that **_you_** allowed her to associate with and allowed him to own part of the **_our_** family company.” She takes a sip of her drink; he thinks it is probably more to clear whatever is irritating her throat, and making her cough, more than just to have a drink.

“So you are going to get me back to Beacon Hills?” he asks while she takes another drink.

“No Chris,” she smiles at him, “I’m going to get **_us_** back to Beacon Hills; the air here doesn’t agree with me, and besides, I want to make sure my favourite niece is safe and well.”

Laura fastens the _muzzle_ over her mouth and nose; muzzle is what most wolves refer to the mask used to filter out the wolfsbane poisoning the air since the attacks on the kibble factories. They’ve upgraded the air filtration systems in the buildings they have secured, so indoors they don’t need to wear them, but until a cure is found, and the affects are neutralised, the wolves need to wear them when outdoors. Especially alphas, given the effect it has on them is entirely the opposite of betas and deltas, causing them to become feral and rabid like in their behaviour.

And as much as she hates the muzzle she needs to get out of the building. Her reunion with Derek hasn’t gone as she expected; these past days the tension between them just seems to have escalated. She can see him tense up whenever she comes near him.

Once the secure communications were up and running the reports started coming in from the deployments across the four states. It wasn’t good.

Washington and Oregon were secure; as expected most of population supported the werewolf rights movement and the Alliance forces didn’t meet much resistance outside of the actual military, which was light with few military bases in those states. Not so in Idaho and California.

In Idaho things had gone as planned in the north and west of the state, but in the south east, Gooding, Arco, Dubois and all points beyond them were still in WERES control. The resistance was unexpected; there was little military contact with the air force base in Elmore County taken, but the civilians were fighting. The reports they were receiving saying how they were scared, terrified of the Alliance forces and shooting on sight.

In California it was worse. She had known that there were more military bases that needed to be neutralised first, but she thought she had allowed for that. She had been certain that even some of the military would switch to their side. It had happened in Alaska. But not in Southern California.

The Alliance forces were repelled, the losses high. By the time reinforcement from Northern California were able to start moving south the mountain ash barriers were securing the targets in the south. There was a no-mans-land between the WERES held Santa Maria and Bakersfield and the secured areas of Salinas and Fresno. Everything south of there had been a bloodbath.

It was all her fault.

Then they got an update from Beacon Hills; the Carver twins checked in. The town was secure. The Newman-McMahon Corporation facility taken, though at a cost. There was a failsafe built into the cells holding the alphas kept there. The cells sealing them in and the fire extinguishers in the ceiling releasing an accelerant that ignited and cremated everything in the room.

Their computers were wiped too; though they have experts working on recovering the data.

As part of the update from Beacon Hills contact was made with Deaton. She couldn’t believe it when he confirmed everything that Derek and _the boy_ had been saying. But at least she had the pleasure of telling him of Claudia's surprise at finding out her son was an operative. And she definitely heard him squirm as she informed him that Alpha Stilinski was less than pleased.

She tried to talk to Derek, but she just couldn’t accept the boy as his alpha, or that Derek would want a human for a mate. And yes, she gets that he is not entirely human, but he isn’t a wolf either.

She tried to explain to Derek, but somehow he always ended up arguing with her. He couldn’t accept that she did what she did for the right reasons, to save him; and that she would do the same thing again, to save him. She had promised Cora, from the day they found out he was alive, that she would bring them back together as a pack; and she intended to keep that promise.

Stiles slowly woke to the feel of the weight of three werewolves on him; more or less.

Derek was half on top of him, tightly pressed against his left side, his nose nudging against the crook of his neck. Isaac was similarly wrapped against his right, and Scott was like a limpet against Isaac’s back with a leg thrown over and resting between Stiles’ own. Their necks are bare, the WERES shock collars removed. Stiles is more than happy at that, though Derek’s neck has gained a few marks that Stiles just couldn’t help making.

They are in the heat room that Scott and Isaac had been placed in when they were first taken by the Alliance forces. They’ve taken to using it as their room, and his mom had their bags to be brought here from the hotel the day she had him and Danny released from the cells. Though that lead to an interesting exchange when Laura saw some of the clothes his pack had packed.

_“Look!” Laura screamed, “Look at the filth he’s making them wear;_ **_open ass shorts, rubber see through shorts, and a gag to keep their mouths open!_** _” she holds up Scott’s piss gag, and all Stiles can think is that it is just as well she doesn’t know what it’s used for, “How can you claim he’s not abusing them?”_

_ Scott’s mom and his own look a little shocked at the leather and rubber clothing Laura has thrown down in front of them. _

_ “He doesn’t make us wear them!” Scott had waded in defending him, “And he didn’t even choose them, we did.” _

_ “Yes, he let us pick the clothes we wanted and then bought them for us,” Isaac adds. _

_ Laura sneers clearly not believing them. _

_ “It’s true,” Derek says, “He had expected us to pick more conventional clothing and wasn’t happy with what we chose, at first,” Stiles can feel the blush heat his cheeks at Derek’s ‘at first’ comment, and Scott and Isaac barely hold their snickering in. _

_ “Trust me, I would have rather they bought something normal,” for every day wear Stiles thinks to himself, “But they wanted those clothes. You should have seen the look on their face when I made them get dressed to visit Melissa. Scott wanted to dress in rubber open ass chaps and full body harness.”  _

_ “Well you should have picked the regular clothing anyway,” Laura snaps. _

_ “ _ **_Which is it Laura?_ ” Derek roars at her, “ ** _That he should force us to wear what he wants, or that he should let us decide? Because you can’t have it both ways.”_

_ “Really Red? I wouldn’t have thought you’d pick open ass shorts,” Laura snarls in anger, “You were always rather timid when your heat was over and you came out of the heat room with all four cheeks blushing.” _

And that was when Stiles got it, why Laura called him Red, she was making fun of the fact that Derek being a delta was submissive and liked being spanked. It made him simmer with rage.

_ “We both already told you not to call him that,” Stiles voice is so low and gravelly he didn’t recognise it as his own at first, didn’t realise that he had moved and grabbed Laura by the throat, his claws out and pricking her skin, “You do not try to humiliate him because he’s a delta and has different needs than you, you don’t humiliate anyone because of who they are or what they like…” _

_ It’s his mom’s hand around his wrist that tells him he may be gripping Laura too tightly around the neck. Laura’s hands are clutching at his forearm and his fingers, trying to pry him off her. _

_ He quickly lets go as if he’d been shocked, backs up slightly and feels his pack press in behind him. He sees the blood bright red against his fingertips and lets out a shaky breath. _

_ “Don’t make fun of my mate,” his voice sounds more normal, “And don’t make fun of my pack, just because we’re different from most people doesn’t mean you don’t treat us with respect.” _

Stiles had turned and fled the room, his pack close on his heels. A little while later Mrs McCall turned up at the door to their room with the clothes in one hand and the piss gag held delicately between the fingertips of the other.

_ “I figured you’d want these back,” she said smirking, “And I hope this has been cleaned properly, I remember finding a collection of pictures on Scott’s computer after he was taken and seeing this feature in a few of them; and some of the badly photo-shopped ones featuring the both of you.” _

She handed the gag over and turned around and walked away as Scott whined and hid his face against Isaac’s neck. That had been two days ago. And now they were about to return to Beacon Hills.

Stiles had convinced the rebel wolves leaders, through his mom, that it wold be better if everyone still thinks that he is a prisoner rather than letting it be known that he is working with them. That they are letting his pack stay with him because of their dependency on him due to the kibble effect. That way if the Alliance plans don’t work out, and WERES retake control, he won’t have his pack taken from him; it will give him a few more months to figure out a Plan-B with Canada no longer an option.

Melissa is hunched over a desk, papers strewn around. _How did she allow herself to be talked into this?_

She’s reviewing the medical personnel that she is now responsible for; doctors and nurses that were practicing medicine before they were bitten or outed as born werewolves. She is trying to match up the people she has with where they are needed; which is mostly around Fresno or Boise. But she needs to cover the equipment and medicines; and there isn’t enough of all three.

And the few people and resources she has are not just needed at the front lines, there are still some skirmishes in the secured cities and towns; she needs people who can tend to both werewolves, and the humans on both sides.

The only way she can have a chance of meeting the needs of the Alliance forces across the four states is if she can draw in local nurses and doctors; if she can persuade them to treat everybody equal. There are some she knows she can count on, the ones she met through working at the werewolf clinic here. They were among some of the first on the scene at the kibble factory explosions tending to the wounded.

She’ll stay here in Seattle for a couple more days, to co-ordinate the local medical support for Washington, Idaho and Oregon, before moving down to Beacon Hills. She doesn’t know why their old home town is being made the centre of operations, other than being more central than here. But she knows it must have something to do with the private call Claudia had with Deaton.

Jackson sees how close Scott, Isaac and Derek are; the touching, hugging and scenting that he isn’t a part of. And he wants it… no he needs it.

His master says they are part of Stiles’ pack, but his master never allows the other wolves to scent him, or hug him. If his master doesn’t allow it then neither can he, but how are they in Stiles’ pack when they don’t interact with them?

He doesn’t get why they separate from them; he doesn’t understand why his master doesn’t let them get close to the rest of the pack as they should be.

Danny watches Jackson every time he sees the other Beacon Hills werewolves interact, the closeness of it, and he recognises the longing in Jackson’s eyes; can tell that he wants to be there with them, touching, scenting each other.

He knows he told Jackson that they were part of Stiles’ pack; that Stiles was their alpha. And on one level that is true, they have followed Stiles, he has allowed Stiles to lead him and by extension Jackson too.

But it scares him; how easy it is to follow Stiles and just go along with his plan. Especially now that the plan to escape to Canada his over, and they are now following him again back to Beacon Hills.

The whole building seems to shake as the explosions go off on at both the front and back of the building.

Boyd can see the wolf twins dart in either direction. But his only concern is Erica. He’s running back down inside the building to the cells where they have been staying, to their rooms. Erica has one on the floor below his. As he runs down the stairs he hears one of the wolves say that they smell wolfsbane; that WERES hunters must be attacking. He wants to help, to go back up and repel the WERES forces, but he needs to know that Erica is okay.

When he gets to her room it’s empty. He panics calling out her name, searching the other rooms on that level. He leaps up back up the stairs, taking two at a time, still calling for her. On his floor he scans the cells checking them, but she wouldn’t go to some strange human’s room; a wolf wouldn’t do that, they’d feel uneasy surrounded by a strange scent. He knows that Erica was already nervous around humans after the way Brian treated her. That’s why he went to her room first.

He notices that his door is slightly ajar and rushes towards it. In there, crouched by between the bed and the chair he finds her cowering.

“Erica,” as he says her name she rushes to him, clinging to him as the noise of gunfire can be heard above; her nose pressed against his throat, “It’s okay; I’m with you; I won’t leave you.”

Boyd wraps his arms around her, desperately trying to let her know he wants to keep her safe.

Ethan finished writing the report on the attack. There were losses; two of the wolves who came with them from Canada, and six local wolves who had been held in the WERES cells when they arrived here.

They held the centre easily enough; managing to repel the attack and secure perimeter. They’ve held the town, but there’s tension that hadn’t existed before the attack. Wolves wary of the humans in the town, and those in the WERES centre, that they had trusted the day before.

The twelve cells on the lower level were now nearly filled with the dozen or so hunters that had been involved in the attack, or further assaults on wolves that have happened since. Locked in the cells they seem too calm, as if waiting for something. Their calm sneering faces only adding to the unease of the wolves.

He feels on edge himself, and knows that Aiden does too.

_ “We should just kill them,” Aiden growled, “They attacked, no-one knows that we have them held in the cells.” _

_ “The humans in the centre that supporting us do,” he countered, “We could lose that support if we act like the animals the WERES hunters paint us to be.” _

_ “You assume they support and aren’t part of some plan…” _

_ “I don’t believe Mr Boyd and the other humans that were held in here prior to our arrival are part of a federal plan to retake the town.” _

_ “You trust too much Ethan, after what they did to our parents you know what humans are capable of.” _

_ “I don’t trust the humans we have locked in cells, but we have to be able to trust those that have given us no reason to distrust them.” _

Given everything he had said, Ethan still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong; and it was related to the humans in the cells.

Chris didn’t like it when Kate smiled like that. The cruelty of it speaking volumes of someone else’s pain. She typed a message on her phone and hit send before she turned her attention back to him.

“Still not been able to contact Allison?” she asked him.

“No.” He turned to stare back out of the window, the train was pulling into another stop. She had managed get them across the state line and into Fresno, inside the werewolf controlled zone.

“We’ll be back in Beacon Hills by tomorrow, we’ll find out what the dogs have done to her,” she says, keeping her voice low. She leans across the table between them, “Some dogs are about to find out that when you lock a few hunters up they don’t sit quietly in the corner and whine.”

He smiles wanly at her as she laughs her head off at her weak joke before it turns into another bout of coughing.

“Stop worrying, Allison is a bright girl; I’m sure she’s fine,” when she get the cough under control.

Allison isn’t the only one he’s worrying about as he wonders just what his sister is dragging him into.

Claudia reads the report on the attack.

The train was attacked shortly after it left San Francisco. The WERES hunters killing nearly all the Alliance wolves on board. Stiles and his pack were listed among the missing. She knew that the hunters had taken them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-6 -- Resistance (Part-2)
> 
> “Derek, you want to try and settle down…” he starts to say.  
> “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Derek turns, his eyes turning blue and fangs piercing through his gums as he snarls at him, “You’re not my alpha.”  
> “No, I’m not,” Danny tries to remain calm, he’s sure his heart is about to burst out of his chest the way it is hammering at his ribcage, “And, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just thought that you may want to help Scott and Isaac calm down, they are worried about Stiles like the rest of us.”  
> Derek pauses at his words; turning to look at the two of them, he sniffs the air and is swiftly at Isaac’s other side. Danny can see the calming effect that the pack contact has on each of them. He cautiously edges Jackson and himself closer to them, until Jackson is curling himself along Scott’s back; Jackson’s hand still tightly gripping his as he nuzzles at Scott’s neck and Danny rests his head against Jackson’s shoulder.  
> All any of them can do while locked in this room is wait for Stiles to be returned.


	6. Resistance (Part-2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Stiles woke with a groan; his hand flying to his head, the pain throbbing through his skull from one side to the other and back again.

“This getting knocked unconscious is becoming a bad habit,” he moaned, “And one we really need to quit.”

“No kidding,” he heard Danny concur from somewhere close by, he opened his eyes and was grateful to see that Derek, Scott and Isaac were curled beside him on the mattress. Danny and Jackson were at the foot of the mattress with them; Jackson’s head resting on Stiles’ legs, Danny sitting on the edge of the mattress behind him.

“At least we’re all together this time,” he smiles weakly at Danny, doubting that it would reach his eyes or fool the wolves; but Danny at least returns a similarly weak smile of his own.

Derek nuzzles against his neck; licking along the length of Stiles’ neck, and nipping at his skin. Stiles tightens his grip around Derek as Isaac pushes himself against Stiles’ other side with Scott’s arm wrapped around Isaac, his hand gripping at Stiles’ shirt.

“So, any idea how long we’ve been out this time?” Stiles asks looking over at Danny.

“No, but whatever they used to knock us out, they used more on you and even more on the wolves,” Danny says, “And it still hurts like hell where those darts hit, I’m sure I’ll have bruises. Assholes!”

Stiles looks around the room they were in; he couldn’t see anything to identify who had attacked the train he had been on with the Alliance wolves. 

“What I don’t get,” he says turning his attention back to Danny, “Is why they killed the other wolves in the carriage with us but used tranquiliser darts on us.”

“Argent hunters looking to save you?” Danny suggests.

“If it is,” Stiles’ eyebrows pull together as he thinks through the possibility, “Why are we locked in a small room with a mattress on the floor? Why did they use more of the tranquiliser on me?”

“Ah, Mr Stilinski…” Stiles and Danny are both startled by the sound of the curt male voice coming from above; looking up the catch the small blinking red light coming from one corner of the ceiling. With their attention focused on the light the voice continues; it reminds Stiles of a Bond villain, and he wonders if they guy is petting a cat in his lap.

“It’s nice to see that you are finally awake; we have important matters to discuss. I will send one of my men to bring you to the dining room, I’m sure you would enjoy some breakfast.”

Stiles is about to ask about something for his pack to eat when their unknown captor continues, “And I will have some sent to the room for your pack as well. I’m sure that they don’t want the werewolf kibble; I certainly doubt Mr Māhealani would find it very appetising.” The man laughs at his own joke. Stiles and Danny just look at each other; Stiles wondering what crap he has gotten his pack into now.

Caleb Newman is insane. Seriously.

Stiles can’t shake the comparison with a Bond villain; the guy basically has outlined his whole super plan to him like the result is a fait accompli. He can’t object to the guy’s goal; **_but_** … he doesn’t agree with _‘the aims justify the means’_ mentality the guy has. Sure ending the slavery of werewolves would be great, it’s an ideal that Stiles is totally behind; but making everyone a werewolf, whether they want to be or not, is not the way to do it.

“So,” Stiles cautiously starts, “The reason behind those experiments was to find a way to make everyone a werewolf? I can’t see the federal government backing your company in doing that, they’d just be setting themselves up to be invade by Europe, or Mexico, hell anyone else in the world; except Canada.”

“Oh no, that wasn’t what the project started as,” Caleb says between mouthfuls of pancake, “We were being funded to create a superior breed of soldier, one that had all the benefits of being a werewolf, but that were still human.”

“So a stronger, faster human that could heal quicker,” Stiles mumbles around a mouthful of syrup coated pancake, “You do realise that **_IS_** a werewolf right? You can’t just breed out _weaknesses_.”

“You really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full; and a stronger, faster human that heals quicker, and doesn’t grow fur, fangs and claws is not a werewolf. Only every test subject was a failure; until you.”

Stiles froze at the man’s words, his fork laden with egg and bacon half way to his mouth.

“ ** _Me?_** ” he splutters, “But I’m human; every WERES test says so, and they wouldn’t have let me _own_ three werewolves if it wasn’t true.”

“My dear boy, my company developed and runs the tests for WERES around the globe; it looks for the specific markers in the DNA that denotes the presence of the werewolf genes. In your case those markers are simply different. You don’t have what they are looking for genetically; so the test results are negative, making you ‘human’. If the tests took a different approach… say checking for one or more extra non-human nucleotides added to the human DNA sequence, and not specifically the expected werewolf DNA sequence, as your friend Dr Deaton did, then your results would be undoubtedly positive.” 

Stiles was at a loss for words. His mind a whirlwind of colliding thoughts; there is one central thread, WERES specifically look for the _known_ werewolf gene. That’s why they don’t see his DNA as werewolf, because it’s not; it’s reorganised human DNA… _plus_. His genes had been altered, sequences of werewolf genetic code had been introduced through chromosomal insertion. His DNA didn’t look like werewolf, which is all they were looking for; but it didn’t look human either. WERES overlooked that though; they looked for the full werewolf sequence so they missed it hiding inside the not so human sequence. _So, what else are they missing? What else could be out there that they don’t know about?_

“You really shouldn’t sit there with your mouth open Stiles,” Caleb smirked at him, “The saviour of the werewolf race should be more dignified. And to paraphrase a great philosopher, when it comes to eating do or do not,” adding with a laugh, “Otherwise your eggs will get cold.”

Stiles shoved the forkful of food into his mouth; Caleb Newman misusing the quotes of Yoda really made his blood boil.

“So,” Boyd starts as he sits down at the table, ignoring Aiden’s low growl. Ethan can smell the interest that Erica has for the human, she smiles at the man as he sits beside her and he gives the she-wolf an openly affectionate smile back before continuing his comment, “What’s up with the hunter’s down in lock-up? They’re not as talkative as they usually are.”

“Maybe they have finally realised that they’re the ones locked up,” Aiden jokes.

But Ethan knows Boyd has a point. The hunters aren’t as cocky as they were. There had been a build-up of tension around them, as if they were expecting something. Now they seem defeated; days after they had been caught during their attack. 

“No,” Ethan interjects, “They had to have been expecting something, or they would have been so confident. Whatever counter attack they were hoping for hasn’t happened.”

“What had they expected?” Aiden derisively asks him, “ _Other than a good beating_?”

“Another attack against us,” the chatter around the room quiets at Ethan’s almost hushed words, “They were waiting on more hunters attacking, if they took out the main and back-up power locks on the cells would have tripped and doors opened. We’d have been fighting on two fronts.”

“There’s less than a dozen of them,” Aiden counters, “What could they have done?”

“They’d be on the inside, we’d be fighting on two fronts. I’m sure there is still anti-werewolf munitions in here we haven’t found yet. They could do a lot.”

Aiden quickly pushes back from the table and marches to the door.

“Tate, Schmid; you’re with me,” he calls to two of their unit, “We’ll sweep the perimeter and check the area is secure.”

They’re holed up in motel a few miles out of town.

Chris still hasn’t been able to contact Allison and now he knows why. She’s in the hospital, unconscious; has been since the night of the invasion. The rumour being that she was injured saving her slave-pet, and that the wolves saved her life. He hasn’t been to the hospital to check on her, to hear for himself what happened. Kate thinks it’s too dangerous for him, that the ‘ _rebel slave-pets_ ’ will be expecting him to try something… 

Though it isn’t the news about Allison that has Kate storming around the room throwing a tantrum like a two year old. Whatever good news she expected to hear about an attack against the wolves holding the WERES facility in town she didn’t get.

Really, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that whatever plan Kate had to undermine the Alliance hasn’t worked, he doesn’t care that they will be looking for him at the hospital, all he cares about is that his daughter is there and she needs him; that he needs to see her and know that she is going to be alright.

He throws a jacket on and heads to the door.

“Where are you going?” Kate hacks out between coughs.

“Out,” he snaps back at her, “I need some air.”

“You can’t go to see her…”

“ ** _I know that_** ,” he shouts, “I’ll stop by a drugstore and get you something for that cough; it’s not like you could go yourself; you’re the one that’s the escaped convicted criminal.”

He pulls the door shut behind him as he leaves.

Getting into the hospital was easier than he thought it would be; even getting to the floor that the room Allison is in goes smoothly. _Maybe too easy, too smoothly_.

He’s standing outside the room; looking through the glass in the door. The tears well in his red rimmed eyes as he sees her lying there in the bed, surrounded by machines and tubes and wires; monitoring her breathing and heartbeat, helping her breathe, feeding and hydrating her. The tears fall down his face, tracking his cheeks with their moisture.

He notices her slave-pet, Jacob, sitting in a seat by her bed; he’s lightly dressed and clearly uncomfortable in the clothes, a book in his hand as he reads to her; his fingers tracing under the words as he mouths them.

**_ He’s reading to her! _ **

“He never leaves her side you know,” the sound of Deaton’s voice behind him startles him almost as much as the realisation that the bred slave-pet was capable of reading, “I doubt he has eaten properly since the incident.”

“What really happened?” he asks the vet, not bothering to wonder why the man is here in a hospital.

“The Alliance unit went to your house looking for you, Allison saw them raise a weapon at Jacob, she didn’t realise it was loaded with werewolf tranquilisers, she stepped in front of Jacob and the dart hit her,” Chris turns to face Deaton as he continues, “They weren’t designed for humans, the potency is nearly double that of an animal tranquiliser and it’s laced with trace amounts of aconite. She had a severe allergic reaction, her airways were blocked and no oxygen was getting to her brain. They have done all they can for her, and tried to wake her; all they can do now is make her comfortable and monitor her condition; we need to wait for her to revive on her own from the coma.”

"Why didn’t they stop me before I got here?” he knows there are Alliance wolves watching them.

“They considered it,” Deaton says, “But, allowing you to walk into a controlled environment with only one exit was seen to be a wiser course of action. And they felt that you should be allowed to see Allison. You weren’t going to start a fire fight in your daughter’s hospital room, so it made sense for us to talk here.”

Chris senses that something is being left unsaid; he waits for Deaton to continue, to tell him why the wolves would agree… and why Deaton asked them. Deaton remains silent.

“Are you going to tell me?” he finally asks the secretive veterinarian. He sees the fleeting look of consideration cross the man’s face before he speaks.

“Did you know that Allison was teaching Jacob to read?” he didn’t expect the question.

“No,” he answers honestly. He really didn’t, and doesn’t know when she started or how she kept it hidden from him; or **_how_** they kept it hidden from him.

“They allowed me to talk to you so that I could try to convince you to help reacclimatise the enslaved werewolves to live emancipated lives.”

Chris isn’t sure he heard the man correctly. How could he help? All he knew was how to enslave and train them; he couldn’t help free them.

Jacob moves his finger under the words as he says them aloud like Allison taught him.

“Once there were two friends who were always together,” he stumbles over some of them, sounding them out and taking his time, “Together they played, and ran, and danced, and told each other secrets.”

Jacob stopped reading, remembering how Allison had played and run with him; how she told him secrets, and how they were friends. He worries if there is a reason that other wolves brought this book from Allison’s room. Except she is not gone, she is still here. He doesn’t want her to go away like the friend in the book does.

All he wants is Allison to wake up. The doctor says that she is very tired, but she has been sleeping for a long time; and Jacob hears the change in heartbeat, he knows that it isn’t true.

The whine is pulled from his throat at the thoughts, and his tears fall onto the page of the book. He just wants his friend to waken.

Derek is pacing the room, has been since the guards came and took Stiles away to talk with Caleb Newman. Danny is still a little surprised that the billionaire owner of NMC would be directly involved; but then maybe with an invasion taking place it’s difficult to get good henchman. Scott and Isaac are glued at the hip and comforting each other, while Jackson is curled against Danny’s side. But Derek’s nervous pacing is making all of them a little edgy.

“Derek, you want to try and settle down…” he starts to say.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Derek turns, his eyes turning blue and fangs piercing through his gums as he snarls at him, “You’re not my alpha.”

“No, I’m not,” Danny tries to remain calm, he’s sure his heart is about to burst out of his chest the way it is hammering at his ribcage, “And, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just thought that you may want to help Scott and Isaac, they’re just as worried about Stiles as the rest of us.”

Derek pauses at his words; turning to look at the two of them, he sniffs the air and is swiftly at Isaac’s other side. Danny can see the calming effect that the pack contact has on each of them. He cautiously edges Jackson and himself closer to them, until Jackson is curling himself along Scott’s back; Jackson’s hand still tightly gripping his as he nuzzles at Scott’s neck and Danny rests his head against Jackson’s shoulder.

All any of them can do while locked in this room is wait for Stiles to be returned.

A little later the sound of the lock being turned and the door opening has them quickly on their feet. As Stiles walks into the room the pack, including Jackson, launch themselves to him; touching, sniffing and reassuring themselves that he is okay. Stiles even walks up to him and pats him on the shoulder, his hand then grasping lightly at the back of his neck. Danny feels himself blush at little, but can’t help the small smile and relief he feels at knowing Stiles is okay.

“What do you mean you don’t know where my son is?” Melissa roars at the young Lieutenant. Claudia can smell the fear beginning to creep into the wolves scent and decides to intercede before he embarrasses himself.

“What do you know about what happened to my sons pack?” she asks stepping up behind Melissa.

“The hunters that took them were professional, they separated the carriage they were in from the rest of the train; and they took out each of the members of the unit that was with them with a single shot to the head.”

“And you have no idea where they have been taken?” Laura growls.

“No ma’am,” the lieutenant whines.

Claudia can see the gears turning in Melissa’s head, and knows that she has an idea.

“What are you thinking?” she probes. They both want to see their sons alive and well.

“We’re in the WERES facility; this building is still connected to the rest of their network right?” Melissa asks with a touch of hope I her voice.

“It’s connected only to the facilities in the cities we control,” Laura answers.

“But it can still connect to their GPS tracking satellite right?”

“Yes…”

“We removed the WERES shock collars, but I haven’t had time to remove the sub-dermal tracking chip,” Melissa’s excitement is almost infectious, “We can just call up their ID’s and look for the chip signal to locate them.”

Laura is out of her chair and striding to the nearest computer before Melissa has finished talking.

Chris is sitting on a chair beside Jacob at Allison’s bedside. He feels so useless. There is nothing he can do except wait.

He can see how much the wolf cares for her. He can’t think of any other slave-pet that has shown that level of affection for their owner. Except maybe for the three that Stiles owns. He wonders if she has taken slave-pet husbandry lessons from him; if maybe that is where the idea to teach him to read had come from. He’d always thought that the bred slave-pets didn’t have the capability to learn more than the basic words to follow orders. Now he wonders if maybe that isn’t true, if maybe everything he had believed in was false.

The light tap at the door jolts him from his thoughts. Deaton is standing there.

“Kate wasn’t at the motel when they got there,” he states, “There was only your bag and clothes in the room; the clerk says she left about half an hour after you did.”

“I’ve no idea where she’d go to,” he tells him, “She might go to a medical centre; she’s been coughing for a while now and probably needs to have a medic check her out.”

“There’s been quite a number of cases of chest infections lately,” Deaton says, “I’ll tell them to check the clinics in the surrounding area.”

Stiles had not thought there would be a time he was happy to see Laura Hale; but he had been wrong. When the door to their cell opened and she was standing there with other Alliance wolves he had been more than happy. He even hugged her; much to his, and her, surprise. Laura’s and Derek’s faces were a picture of shock when he looked at them afterwards; which he couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Wait!” Stiles calls out as his thoughts home in on something that ends his laughter and he turns to Laura asking her, “Aren’t you like still suspended? Are you supposed to be leading the team rescuing us?”

“After everything else I’ve done, do you really think anything would stop be from being part of the team sent to save him?”

That joy at being rescued paled slightly when Stiles found out that Caleb had managed to evade them.

The man has details of the experiments that the corporation he owns had carried out on him, of how they changed his DNA; and Stiles doesn’t believe for one second that not having him to study is going to deter the man from continuing with his plan; somehow.

Stiles wants to get back to Beacon Hills, and that surprises him, but there is the NMC facility there and maybe with Deaton’s help they can figure out what that company has done to him; and with luck, use that work out how to stop Caleb Newman from doing it to anyone else.

Ethan has sent his report; but he doesn’t know how that is going to help. The supplies he’s requested are not going to be available; he already knows that.

The doctors have examined the hunters on the lower level. Every one of them has a severe chest infection. They must have had the infection before they were detained. The air filtration system would have scrubbed any virus from the air before it was released into the building.

But the outbreak seems to have affected at least a fifth of the town. And it’s not just in Beacon Hills. He’s seen reports from all over California, Oregon, Washington and Idaho. A lot of humans are getting sick; so he knows the antibiotics they have are going to be spread thin.

The worrying part of the reports from Idaho and Southern California are the human casualties. The numbers are far higher than from any other sector. The wolves have had to fight harder and use more deadly force; and not necessarily to gain ground or secure targets, just to remain alive and allow them to retreat.

It is playing into the fear the Federation and WERES are spreading. Alpha Colonel Stilinski is not going to be happy, the plan was to minimise human casualties; to show them the wolves were not vicious animals. The diversion of the troops from those two fronts has resulted in the opposite of her goal. And the hunters are capitalising on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-07
> 
> Stiles needs to _actually_ see Deaton, not just talk to him, preferably before his mom kills the vet for involving him. They need to arrange another check-up on the cubs. And Stiles needs to find some time to take care of his pack. They have desires that haven’t been met since they got to Seattle and need to be allowed to submit; his needs haven’t been met either, _and he can feel the urge to warm the asses of his pack and see the colour of their skin redden as his palm makes contact_ … The moan slips from his lips as his thoughts harden his desire.
> 
>  
> 
> Derek snuggles in closer to Stiles’ left side, nipping at his jaw and distracting him from his thoughts. As he turns his head to ask him what he’s after Derek captures his mouth with his own, pressing forward with a needy kiss that takes the breath from Stiles’ lungs. Derek rises back from the kiss, smiling down at him. Isaac and Scott both press themselves closer to his right side in their sleep, their legs thrown over his and trapping him in place.  
> “You need to be thinking about taking care of your pack’s needs,” Derek leers at him, rolling his hips forward and pressing against Stiles’ thigh, “About your mate’s needs,” and Stiles can feel the length and weight if his mate’s needs, matching his own.  
> “Well,” Stiles begins, but all thoughts about his mate’s needs are chased by the clatter and shouts from downstairs.
> 
>  
> 
> “ **Jesus H Christ** ,” his dad’s roar startling Scott and Isaac awake as Stiles bolts upright and Scott flails falling off the side of the bed.


	7. Plague

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
> 

Tim Cantrell checked the report again; as personal assistant to the Chief of Staff he knew that it was better to double check the facts than to hand him a document that was not factually correct.

The details had been collated by the WERES Advisory Committee. There was a growing concern regarding the situation on the west coast, with more bad news coming in every day. The UN Security Council had refused aid when the US taskforce had failed to retake Alaska; citing that it was an internal matter for the country and that the Alaskan residents had joined with the rebel forces to repel the taskforce, the same thing that was now happening in Washington State, Oregon, Idaho and California; well not all of Idaho and California. The council was far too divided to come to any other consensus either; more than one country was now against the enslavement of werewolves; Denmark, Sweden and Norway had recently repealed the WERES Enslavement Bill, and were allowing the politics to play out.

The WAC report showed that whatever the gas clouds from the explosions at the kibble factories contained was acting as some form of biological pathogen that affected humans. The conclusions of the Committee were that the rebel forces had engaged in biological warfare, and that this chemical agent, released by the explosives used to destroy the factories, was responsible for the growing number of reported illnesses being experienced.

Tim took another couple of the antibiotics his doctor had prescribed for his cough before taking the document into the Chief of Staff’s office. As he placed the document on the desk he succumbed to another bout of coughing causing him to hit his temple against the marble bust o placed centrally on the desk and promptly collapse to the floor; his blood seeping into the deep pile of the carpet.

The government reported him as one of the fatalities suffered by the use of germ warfare by the rebel forces trying to overthrow the legitimate government and throw the decent people and society of America into chaos. There was even a segment on FOX News with Cantrell’s mother crying her eyes out saying she ‘ _hoped the bleeding heart liberals who supported giving these animals equal rights with normal decent humans realised what they had done; these werewolves need to be put back in their place and soon_.’

  


Stiles is revelling in the comfort of being in his own bed, with his pack around him. Well, except Danny and Jackson; they decided to go back to Danny’s, though no-one missed the pained expression on Jackson’s face. Danny told him he could stay with Stiles and the pack if he really wanted too, though it was obvious he wanted Jackson to come with him; and that was what Jackson chose, to go home with Danny.

Each of the pack hugged and scented Jackson, brushing their cheeks together and along their neck and collarbone. He cautiously approached Stiles, the worry radiating off him until Stiles pulled him into an embrace, scenting him too. The contentment evident in the soft whispered ‘ _Alpha_ ’ exhaled from between Jackson’s lips as he relaxed into Stiles’ arms. Danny didn’t allow more than a quick hug with each of the pack, and Stiles saw the confused expression cross each of the pack’s face as Danny pulled away from them; Jackson looked just as confused and a little hurt. Whatever Danny’s issue is, Stiles reckons he will need to get to the bottom of it before it starts to cause problems between them; with everything that has happened since the invasion he just hasn’t been able to talk to Danny alone. _Seriously, doesn’t Danny see the effect his actions are having on Jackson?_

Of course things hadn’t gone smoothly when he got home either. His dad had been slumped in his chair, a glass nearly falling from the loose grip his fingers had on it and an empty bottle of whisky on the floor. Stiles isn’t sure if he’ll even remember that they are home, or that his mom is with them.

The Alliance plans seem to have shifted, _ever so slightly_ , given the on-going fighting in Idaho and Southern California; and Laura’s tribunal. They are no longer going with the plan of Laura being the face of the Alliance and Stiles pretending to be captured and being forced to co-operate with them. Instead his mom will be the face of the Alliance; that will make some people questions Stiles genetics. And they are going public with the NMC’s experiments and that crazy Caleb plans to make everyone a wolf; at least as soon as they have gathered the evidence of the experiments, the servers at the facility here in Beacon Hills was wiped clean, but they have a forensics team scouring the disks trying to recover what was there. Marin had some data from the servers, but apparently Deaton hasn’t seen or heard from her since the invasion started.

Stiles needs to _actually_ see Deaton, not just talk to him, preferably before his mom kills the vet for involving him. They need to arrange another check-up on the cubs. And Stiles needs to find some time to take care of his pack. They have desires that haven’t been met since they got to Seattle and need to be allowed to submit; his needs haven’t been met either, _and he can feel the urge to warm the asses of his pack and see the colour of their skin redden as his palm makes contact…_ The moan slips from his lips as his thoughts harden his desire.

Derek snuggles in closer to Stiles’ left side, nipping at his jaw and distracting him from his thoughts. As he turns his head to ask him what he’s after Derek captures his mouth with his own, pressing forward with a needy kiss that takes the breath from Stiles’ lungs. Derek rises back from the kiss, smiling down at him. Isaac and Scott both press themselves closer to his right side in their sleep, their legs thrown over his and trapping him in place.

“You need to be thinking about taking care of your pack’s needs,” Derek leers at him, rolling his hips forward and pressing against Stiles’ thigh, “About your mate’s needs,” and Stiles can feel the length and weight if his mate’s needs, matching his own.

“Well,” Stiles begins, but all thoughts about his mate’s needs are chased by the clatter and shouts from downstairs.

“ ** _Jesus H Christ_** ,” his dad’s roar startling Scott and Isaac awake as Stiles bolts upright and Scott flails falling off the side of the bed.

  


John Stilinski is standing with his back against the counter, a frying pan and two smashed eggs are on the floor. He feels shock, hope and disbelief as he stares across the room at Claudia standing in the doorway, but he knows it can’t be; that he must be hallucinating.

He sees Stiles run up to the doorway behind the hallucination in nothing but a pair of sleep pants. He knows that Stiles took his pack and they were heading to Canada, they should have got their about the time the invasion started. But fragments of the dream he had last night start to come back to him.

Of passing out in his chair, the smell of her perfume that he would have almost forgotten if it weren’t for the small bottle of it that still stands on the dressing table in their bedroom. The half-heard warning in Stiles’ voice ‘ _that bottle better not have just been opened tonight old man_ ’; can it be real.

“Well, say something,” the apparition says to him.

“What do I say to a ghost?”

“John…”

“No, don’t… this can’t be real…” the tears of joy and anger threaten at his eyes.

“Dad…” 

“No,” he rushes past them, heading for the bathroom, “I need to get ready for work.”

He locks the door behind him, turning on the shower he lets the tears fall as he grips the side of the tub. **_How could she do that to him, to them both?_** He had lost her, she had been his everything; idealistic, strong minded and not afraid to speak out for her belief in equality. And then she was taken from him; in a second attack by an alpha; and what were the chances of two alpha attacks against the same person. He’d seen a pattern, something off that he couldn’t pin down.

He’d never been able to gather evidence that the two attacks on her had been anything more than an escaped rogue alpha; even if he had his suspicions, from that first attack where they nearly lost Stiles before he was even with them. And now. **_What was he supposed to think now?_** He knows that she must have faked the second attack, **_but why would she… Canada?_** Stiles had been on his way there, where else would she escape to _, and how could she be so selfish?_ _Why would she put them both through that? Leaving them to believe she was dead?_

He could only hide in the bathroom for so long; and he knew he was hiding, he had hid from dealing with her death only then it was inside a bottle. Much like he had started to do when Stiles had left, but he knew why Stiles had to leave. He would have done the same thing for a chance to keep his family together.

He walks down the stairs. He heard Stiles leave with his pack; heard him say something about needing to speak to Deaton. Claudia is sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands.

“Do you want one?” she asks him.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” he sees the brief widening of her eyes, knows then that she never considered that he knew the first attack had changed her, “ ** _I’m a detective for god’s sake, did you really think I wouldn’t notice the signs?_** The moodiness around the full moon, or the fact that the first full moon after you were attacked you had Stiles stay over at Scott’s when I was working through until dawn, or the dozen other little things that lead to one explanation.”

“I thought I was protecting you both,” her eyes are pleading with him to understand, and if he could look at it with cold pure logic maybe he would; but he’s still too emotionally involved, the hurt of losing her still too painful.

“ ** _Protecting us? Bullshit!_** ” the years of pain roared in each word, “I buried my wife, Stiles buried his mother; we mourned you. For eight years we have lived with the pain of missing you, of you not being there… of knowing I would never… don’t pretend you did this for us; the only person who gained from this was you. All we did was lose.”

“I know,” John doesn’t know when he looked away from her, only knows that now she is standing in front of him, that she has taken his hand and they are looking at each other through tear-blurred eyes.

“Then why Claudia? Why didn’t you say something? We could have left with you.”

“I did the only thing I could to protect you and our son. I couldn’t risk WERES questioning your loyalty and risk your job, or have them look too closely at Stiles blood results. I wish that we could have stayed together, but you know that wouldn’t worked; for the same reason you didn’t leave with Stiles, you know that. ”

“It was too short notice; I was **going** to go with Stiles, but I wasn’t able to get time off, and I couldn’t just vanish, it would have been suspicious,” he answers, “And…”

“And it would have been suspicious eight years ago too,” she counters, “I love you both too much to put you in that danger.”

“I’d have risked it for you.”

“But you wouldn’t risk Stiles, and neither would I.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he says softly in reply; he looks intently into her eyes before asking, “Care to tell me how you managed to have Stiles’ blood results return as human?”

“I didn’t, and that is a longer story that I don’t know all the details of; yet.”

When he finally leaves for work, running more than a little late, most of his suspicions have been confirmed; and despite his anger he can’t hide the smile as he reminds himself, ‘ _Claudia is alive_ ’.

  


Dr. Hilliard is reviewing the case notes in front of her; all of the patients have had similar symptoms for over the past several weeks, white spots on the tongue or mouth, dry cough, shortness of breath. Now each of them have the symptoms of acute pneumonia; and there are wide spread reports of similar cases across the state.

The reports follow the cloud fallout from the kibble factory explosions. It’s the same in Oregon, Washington and Idaho; the only other states she can currently get reports from. The reports are all the same; over time the patients had persistent cough, recurring infections and increasing severity of symptoms.

The final test results she asked for have arrived and it is as she expected. Their immune system has been compromised, and their white blood cells are being killed. The CD4 count in her patients is one hundred at the lowest count and three hundred at most. It should be upwards of five hundred. There are no signs of the expected causes; there are high readings of the wolfsbane compounds usually found in werewolves that have been fed kibble. The level of readings expected after eighteen months or more; based on the leaked reports that hit the internet a few months back.

She’s treating the pneumonia with usual regime of antibiotics, one of the patients is on a ventilator; but without knowing how to combat the wolfsbane the long term prognosis is not promising.

  


Claudia looked around the faces sitting around the table in the makeshift war room. Most of those seated were wolves; the exceptions being Melissa and Deaton, the only two humans. The centre of the table contained the large touch screen currently showing the placement of their forces, the main contested areas and levels of casualties and losses. Wolves and humans on both sides.

“We need to talk about the propaganda that is masquerading as news reports that are appearing on the web,” Deaton interrupts before she even begins. He touches the screen to change the display and video of report claiming that the bombing of the kibble factories contained biological agents that are responsible for the outbreaks of infections across the country.

“ ** _They dare to claim that we were responsible for the attacks, that we…_** ” Claudia roars.

“We still don’t know who was responsible for the bombings,” Deaton says, “All of the cells deny any involvement.”

“Dr. Hilliard’s reporting that the number of patients is growing faster than we have beds available to treat them, and the supplies of antibiotics are running out faster than they can be restocked,” Melissa adds, “This is becoming a crisis; people are scared and will start looking to lay the blame on someone. It won’t be difficult for them to start believing the WERES version of the story. Especially with the high human civilian casualties in SoCal and Idaho.”

“Laying blame at someone's feet isn't my direct intention here Deaton, but I've read over every report involving the Stilinski boy and..."

"Laura, be very careful with where you take this." Claudia growled

"I'm not implying he did anything, but he turned the kibble report directly over to Deaton. And your track record with following orders is clearly less than stellar, why should we believe the first person to see this report didn't have anything to do with the attacks?"

“As you are well aware I do not take the path of violence as a first resort,” Deaton calmly states, his voice disclosing no emotion, “Bombing factories making kibble or facilities containing enslaved werewolves is **not** an action I would take.”  
"We can deal with finding those responsible for the bombing later; the priority now is how we deal with the humans _and werewolves_ still being affected by it," Claudia cuts in before Laura replies. 

"Anyway, surely the humans here will be able to see that we don't have any violent intentions. At least the ones in California, Washington, and such, they have to realize we aren't responsible don't they?" Laura asked hopefully,  
“It will take longer,” Melissa replies, holding her gaze, “They’ve seen how werewolves aren’t the animals to be controlled, but eventually as their friends and loved ones fall ill, and they are helpless to do anything, they too will look for someone to blame, someone to fight when they can’t fight the disease. Someone to rile against.”

“We need a way to stop this spreading,” Claudia says looking for an answer in the faces of those around her.

“I think I know where to look,” Deaton states, he lifts his eyes from the table to meet her own, “Stiles is immune to the effects of the wolfsbane used in the kibble, he has passed that on to Derek when he became pregnant with Stiles’ twins; I believe that in his blood we can find a solution to the both the effect of the kibble on werewolves, and the effect on the human immune system.”

"No," Claudia snarls at Deaton, “You have already involved him against my wishes. You will not…”

“He was already involved before I contacted him,” Deaton says, “He was involved before he was born; NMC saw to that when they targeted you for their live testing.”

“Their actions did not give you the right to drag him into this!” Claudia roars, “I wanted Stiles and John kept out of harm’s way; you only focused NMC’s attention on him more as he gathered a pack around him.”

“That was never the intention…”

“But it was the result,” Claudia’s voice is hard and cold as she cuts off Deaton’s reply.

  


Stiles had to stop by the hospital, he needed to know that Allison was okay; to see her for himself. Only no one had told him that Chris was there. Now he had to decide how much of the truth he should tell him. Not everything that’s for sure. But soon it will be public knowledge that he isn’t entirely human, no matter what the WERES blood tests said.

“How is she?” he asks as he slipped into the room. Chris was sitting in one of the chairs by the bed. Jacob was in the other, he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days; and there was a bowl of food beside him that didn’t look like it had been touched.

Chris looked up at him; Jacob just kept staring at Allison.

“I assume you’ve heard what happened?” Stiles nods at Chris’s question; Deaton had told him on a call, “There’s no change in her condition, or his,” he jerks his head towards Jacob, “He hardly sleeps, hasn’t eaten in days; the doctors are talking of sedating him and connecting him to a feeding tube.”

“I don’t think he needs that,” Stiles walks over to Jacob, and kneeling in front of him places a hand either side of Jacob’s head and makes sure he has his attention. He knows Jacob and smell his pack on him, _maybe even detects the wolf in him_ , and that he recognises the scent, “ ** _Jacob_** ,” he whines slightly at the commanding tone Stiles uses, “You know Allison would be unhappy that you are not eating. How are you going to look after her when she wakes if you don’t take look after yourself?”

He knows Jacob understands him when he whines and tries to bare his neck to him. Chris is just watching him from the other chair.

“Now, are you going to eat your food?” Jacob nods his assent and picks up the bowl of broth, drinking the liquid from the bowl.

“You know,” Chris says, “You really shouldn’t be able to command someone else’s slave-pet like that, especially a facility bred wolf like Jacob.”

“Really,” Stiles says, “I’ve never had a problem getting submissive wolves to do what I want.”

“Deaton asked me to help retrain them, to acclimatise them to being free.”

“What did you say?” Stiles asks him.

“That I don’t know if I can, right now I don’t want to think about it,” Chris replies, his eyes never leaving Allison, “Maybe he should ask you. After all that you are able to do with the wolves; having delta males go into heat, wolves that have accepted other’s as their mistress or master obeying you… maybe it’s because your mother’s an alpha, or…”

“Maybe it’s because I’m an alpha too,” Stiles vision shifts slightly; he’s never consciously done it before, but he knows his eyes are glowing red. He sees Chris’s eyes widen in shock and fear, “It’s a long story, which I don’t even know the whole of yet.”

  


They are in Deaton’s clinic. Laura and Stiles’ mom wanted them to have the check up at the hospital. But Derek wanted familiar surroundings and someone that he knew, and had been treating him. Stiles was happy to push for that as he wanted to talk to Deaton anyway.

The image of the twins are still on the ultrasound, Deaton is printing it while Derek wipes the gel from his abdomen.

“So,” Stiles starts, “When do we start working again on the antidote to the kibble effect? And, just how invasive and painful is it going to be, ‘cause while my pack likes me giving them a good spanking,” which causes Derek, Scott and Isaac to blush, “I don’t have such a good pain threshold. Or do you think that’s changed since all the wolf-y stuff started manifesting?” 

He can see his mom is about to start arguing, but he’s made up his mind; this needs to happen.

“Something in my DNA reacted with Derek’s when he became pregnant, Deaton’s been working on it since he first saw the results; it’s the best lead we have on an antidote to reverse the effects for all wolves, and maybe there is something in there to cure the humans affected too. We have to do everything we can. We need to give people some hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-08 -- Jackson
> 
> Jackson whines in frustration.
> 
>  
> 
> He doesn’t know what is going on. He and his master haven’t been near the pack in weeks. His master just keeps telling him that the rest of the pack are busy helping Deaton. He knows that their alpha has been helping trying to find a cure for effects the kibble has caused, but only because he heard his master talking to Lydia about it; while both of them were in kitchen making coffee and he was left alone in the den. They seemed to forget about his hearing.
> 
>  
> 
> They also seemed to forget about it while his master complained to her that he was getting frustrated as he couldn’t have sex with Jackson; because he didn’t want to be forcing him to do something that he was only doing because he was affected by the kibble. Lydia then said something about how his master had been happy to force him to do things he didn’t want when he first took him home from Argent’s. He could tell how sad that made his master; even with a room and two closed doors between them the sourness in his master’s scent reached him.
> 
>  
> 
> He wants to talk with Scott and Isaac; he wants to ask them if their master, their alpha, is treating them differently because of whatever the kibble has done to them. And if not he wants to know how they let their master know that they wanted his affection. Because he needs to be able to show his master that the desire he has for his affection is real; it’s the only way his master will be with him again, the only way his master will be truly happy again.
> 
>  
> 
> And he needs to make his master happy.


	8. Jackson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
> 

Isaac couldn't help but be worried, no matter how much comfort he got as he lay between his mate and their master. Since the invasion their routine has been completely broken, Stiles hasn’t taken care of them like he did before they went to Seattle to escape. He misses that, knowing he always had his master’s full attention.

He worries that Stiles may not want to be with him and Scott like that now that they are mates; or maybe it’s because Stiles and Derek are mates, and that Derek is expecting. Everything just changed so quickly.

He knows that Stiles has been spending a lot of time with Deaton over the past few weeks. They are trying to find a cure for the kibble effect, to find some way to recreate whatever happened in Derek when he got pregnant; and Stiles is determined to succeed. But he needs his master’s attention, and he knows Scott does too; and Derek. Above all else Isaac just misses feeling like a family.

Isaac pressed himself tightly against his alpha, his nose rubbing along the length of his master’s neck, needing his scent and the calmness it brought him. Scott pulled himself closer, so that he was flush against the length of Isaac’s back; a contented sigh leaving his lips once his head rested against the back of Isaac’s neck again. 

In these moments Isaac could pretend that everything was as it was before they left Beacon Hills; could relive the memories of the morning routine they had all shared and looked forward to. Maybe Derek will know how to convince their master that they need him more.

  


Jackson can’t help but whine in frustration.

He doesn’t know what is going on. He and his master haven’t been near the pack in weeks. His master just doesn’t understand what it means to be part of a pack. His master just keeps telling him that the rest of the pack are busy helping Deaton. He knows that their alpha has been helping trying to find a cure for effects of the kibble, but only because he heard his master talking to Lydia about it; while both of them were in kitchen making coffee and he was left alone in the den. They seemed to forget about his hearing. But his master has been ignoring him so much lately he can't be surprised.

They also seemed to forget about it while his master complained to her that **_he_** was getting frustrated! As he _couldn’t_ have sex with Jackson; because he didn’t want to be forcing him to do something that he was only doing because he was affected by the kibble. How ridiculous was that! Lydia then said something about how his master had been happy to force him to do things he didn’t want when he first took him home from Argent’s. He could tell how sad that made his master; even with a room and two closed doors between them the sourness in his master’s scent reached him. He wishes he could be there to comfort his master but he doesn't want to get into trouble for eavesdropping.

He needs to talk with Scott and Isaac; he wants to ask them if their master, their alpha, is treating them differently because of whatever the kibble has done to them. And if not he wants to know how they let their master know that they wanted his affection. Because he needs to be able to show his master that the desire he has for his affection is real; it’s the only way his master will be with him again, the only way his master will be truly happy again. If only he could get the cure to prove his feelings were real.

He needs to make his master happy.

His master and Lydia come back into the den, passing one of the cups of coffee to him.

“So, where are we going for lunch today?” Lydia expectantly asks. Jackson shudders at the thought, the last outing was not one he wanted to repeat. The café owner was a Federation supporter, he didn’t like a _werewolf_ sitting at one of _his_ tables, eating the food _he’d_ prepared. His master got… _upset_ at some of the things the man had said.

“WERES,” Jackson finds himself blurting out; he remembers seeing that the Alliance forces had set up a place for werewolves to go and eat in the building. He sees Lydia and his master looking at him.

“Why do you want to go to the WERES building?” his master asks; he nods his head, worrying that maybe he shouldn’t have spoken out.

“Of course!” Lydia exclaims, “They set up a meeting place for newly freed werewolves, they provide support, and there’s even a café. You want to go there so we don’t have some idiot owner hassling us like last time.” He’s glad Lydia understands.

“Okay,” his master smiles at him; a real smile that Jackson hadn’t seen on his master for a long time, and a look of hope hiding in his eyes, “That sounds like a great idea.”

  


Stiles knew that Derek had wanted to talk for a while now, and he could tell that it was something important. The concern had been radiating from him all morning. At first Stiles had thought it was just the worry concerning the tests and the amount of blood Deaton was drawing from him; it worried him, he’s wasn’t sure there would be much left in his veins. Derek hovered about the lab all day with him while his mom had taken Scott and Isaac to the WERES… the Alliance HQ, the building was being repurposed as their command centre after all, but he saw the look that passed between Isaac, Scott and Derek and knew they were conspiring over something.

He just hadn’t expected the bluntness of Derek asking him about _that_ so directly.

“When are you going to start with our routine again?” The words catching him by surprise.

“What?” he splutters in reply, “Derek I don’t…”

“ ** _We_** ,” Derek emphasises, holding Stiles by his shoulders and looking into his eyes, “Miss it Stiles; I talked with Scott and Isaac while you were with Deaton. They need you as much as I do.”

“But that could just be the kibble,” Stiles doesn’t manage to keep the worried edge from his voice; it’s not that he hasn’t thought about it or wanted to, and he doesn’t think it’s just the kibble affecting them, but he’s heard his mom, Laura and the other wolves talking; he doesn’t want them thinking he would abuse his pack, “I can’t…”

“You know I’m not affected by it, and you know from the tests that Deaton did before we left for Seattle that the Argent kibble has less effect than the KWE stuff Isaac and Jackson were fed…”

“And you’re okay with me being…” Stiles tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, “You know… **_with_** Scott and Isaac?”

“You’re their Master, and their alpha, you need to take care of them,” Derek pulls him close, their foreheads touching, “And you love them, but I know you are **_in_** love with me, you are my mate, and I am yours. Nothing will change that. I admit," Derek continues, "Things are a bit different now that I'm clear headed, and I’m sure there are things I won’t enjoy as much anymore, but that doesn't mean I want to completely change the life we built together. I will always be yours.”

“Mine,” Stiles growls at Derek’s words, the surge of possessiveness he feels coiling in his gut.

“Yours,” Stiles silences Derek’s words by claiming his lips with his own, forcefully invading his mouth, his tongue searching deep to mark what is his.

Derek smiles at him as he backs away, ending the kiss.

“But I won’t dominate Scott and Isaac,” Stiles can hear the doubt in his own words; borne of his desire to have the relationship with them he had started, “I don’t want to them to despise me for taking advantage of them while they were under the influence once we find the cure.”

“You know Scott wanted that to submit to you before he was bitten, and it was being with you that allowed Isaac to enjoy being submissive again. And what are they going to do until they are cured? Are you going to allow them to submit to someone else, or are they not to have their needs met?”

“No of course not! I guess I was just too worried about how they will feel after they're cured to pay attention to what they needed now …” Stiles couldn’t allow them to submit to someone else; he couldn’t trust that their limits would be observed.

“Trust me,” Derek pleads with him, “And trust them.”

“But…”

“Stiles, after we found out about the effects of the kibble we still stuck to our routine, you spanked us, washed us and we had sex; you even gave Scott his fantasy of being used as your urinal. Why have a problem giving your pack what they want, what they need, from you now?”

And Stiles knows that Derek is right. He shouldn’t allow what others think stop him from giving his pack what they need. If this revolution does any good it won’t be by replacing one prescribed set of behaviours with another. It has to allow everyone to define and live their own consensual relationships, to live the lives that make them happy.

“Your right,” he finally replies to Derek. He wants their lives to continue as it had been. The four of them together as a pack, two couples that were together; with Derek, Scott and Isaac submitting to him. 

“Stiles…”

“Tomorrow, we start living our lives our way, tomorrow. But, after they are cured we all need to sit down and really talk things out.”

“Just one thing, I don’t think anyone but Scott wants to drink your piss,” Derek smiles before he leans in towards him, kissing him as the feeling of his mate’s happiness rolls over him lifting his own worries from him.

  


He feels his master’s apprehension as they walk up the stairs into the WERES building; the sign on the wall now reading ‘Human and Werewolf Alliance’. Lydia strides right in, not a care that she is walking into what is essentially a den of wolves. Jackson feels his wolf pushing close to the surface, the scent of many calling to his instincts; none are hidden behind the chemical stench of the approved WERES shower gels and soaps. But he can’t leave his master’s side, can’t allow his wolf through; he allows himself to fall behind his master, to walk a pace at his back.

His control and training fail as he catches the scent of his pack; and he knows they are pack, his master told him. Turning his head and sniffing the air he knows that Scott and Isaac are here, but not Derek or their alpha. Having missed being with his pack he feels compelled to their side, leaving his place beside his master to runs to them and is caught in their embrace; both of them scenting him as he does to them.

"Where's your master?" he asks them quietly as he leans in against Scott’s ear. He instantly feels the eyes of the non-pack wolves on him; he feels their judgement.

“Stiles is with Deaton at the NMC labs,” Isaac answers, ignoring the glares they are receiving from the other wolves. Jackson wonders why Stiles has taken Scott and Isaac with him, Danny takes him everywhere.

“So, is it table service?” he hears Lydia ask from behind him.

“It’s more like the cafeteria at school,” Scott answers her.

Danny asks him if he wants to go choose something to eat, but Jackson asks him to pick for him; he wants to stay sitting with Scott and Isaac. Once Danny and Lydia are out of earshot he turns to Scott and Isaac.

“So, is your master treating you differently lately?” They share a look before they turn back to him.

“Well,” Scott starts, “Stiles has been busy working with Deaton on a cure for us and the humans.” He still notices the pauses and the ducking of their eyes as he answers.

“But Derek is going to talk to him about finding some time for us to be together, like we were before,” Isaac adds.

As Danny and Lydia return to their table with burgers and fries Jackson considers Scott and Isaac’s words. Maybe the concern about the effects of the kibble are affecting more than just his master. That could be why his alpha is working on it so intensely with Deaton. To the extent that he is clearly neglecting Scott and Isaac’s needs; just as his master is with him. But even if it's really not his fault his master won't use him that doesn't mean he can't try and fix it.

He bites into his burger as he considers how he can resolve this and make his master happy.

  


“The results are promising,” Deaton’s eyes are still scanning over the printouts in his hand as he speaks, not looking up as he reviews the results of the latest tests.

“ ** _Finally,_** ” Stiles responds; his arms wrapped around Derek’s waist as he pulls his mate back flush against him, a hand absently rubbing over the bump that’s starting to show.

“ _Promising is not the same as conclusive Stiles_ ,” Deaton’s eyes glancing up at him as he rests back against the counter, Derek standing between his legs resting back against him.

“So, what, do we have a cure or not?” Stiles asks, not hiding his frustration at how long it is taking; while they have been searching for a cure the death toll from the humans affected by the wolfsbane gas has steadily climbed, there are no reliable figures for those on the other side, but within the Alliance held areas there are already more than one million confirmed cases. And over thirty-five thousand who have died. The federation side will be nearly ten times those figures if the rate of infections are the same, “After all these weeks I hope we have something to show for all the blood you’ve taken from us.”

“Testing takes time. The worst thing we could do is rush and give out a serum that makes the effects worse. And don’t forget, the computer models only give an indication, I needed to create enough of the serum to use on a test subject…”

“You’ve already tested this on a person?” Stiles knew that they weren’t following FDA procedures, they didn’t have the luxury to spend years in trials before testing on an actual human, but he didn’t think that Deaton had gotten permission to test on someone yet. 

“The serum created from the stem cells of the amniotic sack were the most promising,” Deaton calmly states, “So, I set up two tests from the last batch of the serum. One here in the lab testing the results in restoring the human immune system, and another with a live test on reversing the effects of the enforced mental submissiveness in werewolves.”

“Which werewolf volunteered for that?” Stiles asks; selfishly hoping that it doesn’t turn out to be one that he knows. He wants to know it works before Scott or Isaac take it; or Jackson.

“Me,” a calls from the doorway causing Stiles to turn and see Ms Morrell standing beside a werewolf that he doesn’t know.

“ _Uncle Peter?_ ” Derek says pulling slightly against Stiles’ arms still wrapped around him as he moves towards him, “How?”

“You know I thought you’d be showing more,” Peter says, turning to Ms Morrell before asking, “Didn’t you say he was five months pregnant?”

“I’m nineteen weeks,” Derek huffs.

“I think we should complete the tests we need on Peter before the family reunion continues,” she says, “I would like to know how viable this is before moving on.”

Derek calls Laura to tell her that their uncle is here while Deaton and Morrell are carrying out the blood tests and MRI scan. It seems that she risked a lot as she smuggled him across the ‘border’ from Los Angeles to Bakersfield. Once there she gave him the serum and he fell into a deep sleep; he slept for nearly twenty-four hours.

By the time the scans are complete, and Deaton and Morrell are looking over the results of them and the blood tests, Laura and Stiles’ mom have arrived. Scott and Isaac are still at the café with Lydia, Danny and Jackson; discussing the prospect of returning to school next week. Erica and Boyd are talking with them too, apparently, with Ethan and Aiden.

The wolves going back to the regular school is something that Stiles considers a small victory. Laura and his mom were looking at setting up separate schools for werewolves to attend. But Stiles argued with them both about it. He believed that it was important that there was no segregation, everyone had to be taught together so that they could both see that whether you are human or werewolf makes no difference. Everyone is the same, and should be treated the same; to send the werewolves to a segregated school would either be seen as giving them a better education, or that they were not good enough to be in the same education system as humans; that they were still inferior.

It had nothing to do with Stiles wanting all of his pack around him. _Not one bit._

“So, Deaton, Ms Morrell,” Stiles cuts over the aimless chatter and catch up between Laura and Peter; Derek is still by his side now that Laura is here, he still avoids her where possible, “Do we have a cure?”

“Yes, has it worked?” his mom asks, “We need a success.”

“It has worked on Peter,” Deaton confirms, “We are seeing the same reduction of the kibble effects as in Derek, though Peter still has signs of kibble bonding in the frontal lobe and temporal lobe; the areas of the brain that affect behaviour, initiative, inhibition and our sense of identity. It is still a very positive first step, but, before everyone gets excited remember, this does not mean that it will work for everyone, Derek and Peter are from the same family and are genetically similar. We will need to test with someone not related; also we do not know at this stage if the results are permanent, or if repeated applications of the serum will be needed. We will have to see how he reacts long term; there is still a long way to go.”

“And on humans?” Stiles and his mom ask at the same time.

“We need to test the vaccine on an infected human, but the lab results are positive. Even once we have a working vaccine we need to find a way to mass produce it in the quantities that it will be needed.”

It’s still the best news they have had over the last three months since the Alliance invaded.

  


Jackson is scared.

He should have just stayed and faced the consequences, taken whatever punishment his master gave him. But he ran. He didn’t mean to, but he argued with him, he told him he needed to do this, he needed to be cured so that his master would be happy again; it was _really_ important to him that his master was happy.

But when he said that he wanted to take the vaccine that their alpha and Deaton had made his master just got angry, saying he ‘ _didn’t want him to be a guinea pig and take something that had only worked once, that they didn’t know would work_ ’. He didn’t understand that; his master wanted him to not be under the influence of the kibble, and if he wasn’t that would make him happy again. He pointed out that Stiles had always been there for them, and that he remembers he wasn’t nice to Stiles at school but he still tried to help him escape from WERES, and that he’s their alpha so he wouldn’t allow him to take anything that was dangerous.

That only made his master angrier; that was when he ran.

“Hey, you okay?” Jackson jumps at the voice coming up behind him, turns and spotting the car drawing alongside him he is suddenly on edge. There are two wolves in the car, but they’re not pack.

“Jackson, right? I’m Ethan, remember?” the wolf asks him, “We met at the Alliance building, you were with Scott and Isaac.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to my alpha’s house…”

“Stiles?” Jackson nods his head, “He was still at the building when we left to patrol; we’re just heading back now. Do you want a lift?” Jackson is wary of getting in the car with them, they’re not pack, and not his master, “It would be safer than a wolf walking the streets on their own, there is still the odd vengeful hunter…”

“Okay,” he decides, jumping into the back seat.

As they drive the two wolves try to engage him in conversation, but he’s too on edge to relax; he’s disobeyed his master, he fled from his house and now he’s surrounded by the scent of wolves that aren’t pack. He’s so unused to being able to smell a wolf that wasn’t Scott, Isaac, or Derek. He didn’t know any other wolves that weren’t covered by the chemical smell of the WERES products. Until now. But he doesn’t really know these wolves.

They arrive at the building and Jackson hasn’t really spoken to them outside giving a ‘ _yes_ ’ or ‘ _no_ ’ answer when they directly asked him something. Walking in through the main doors he sees Stiles and practically charges at him; wrapping him in hug, whimpering as he buries his nose in the crook of his neck. He begins to calm as his alpha’s arms circle around him, pulling him tighter into the hug and he feels the comfort of pack.

“Jacks, what’s wrong?” Stiles asks; his concern clear in the strong tone of his voice as his hands rub soothing circles on Jackson’s back and his cheek slides against Jackson’s own.

“I… I argued with my master,” he ignores the low growl of the wolves around him, he hears Stiles hush them and the silence that follows.

“Come on, let’s find a quiet room to talk.”

Stiles leads him into a small office. They sit on the couch and Stiles pulls him down until they are both lying curled together. Jackson can feel the contentment of his wolf; feels the safety of being with his alpha.

Slowly he tells Stiles about his argument with his master, about how he wants to make his master happy but he won’t allow him. That he thinks Jackson is too affected by the kibble. He explains to Stiles how he wants to take the cure so that he can show his master that he isn’t as affected by the kibble as he thinks.

“There’s no guarantee that it will work, you know that right?” his alpha asks.

“Yeah, but it could.”

“Whether it works or not there will be a lot of check-ups with Deaton to monitor its effect on you. And it might prove Danny is right about how much the kibble, _and his actions when he first took you from Argent’s store_ , have affected you,” Jackson is sure that it won’t, he knows he’s not changed that much, “Are you prepared for that possibility?”

“I’ll be okay,” he answers; knowing that it won’t come to that. He’s going to make his master happy.

“I’ll talk to Deaton.”

  


Danny was frantic. He paced up and down his bedroom, even kicked the stupid WERES cage still sitting in the corner.

He knew Jackson needed to have the cure. He knew every werewolf needed it. And a part of him was scared that something barely tested might have side effects they didn’t know about. But he also knew that Stiles wouldn’t let Jackson, Scott or Isaac take something that he thought could harm them. No the real reason Danny was scared he knew was a selfish one; once Jackson was cured he wouldn’t love Danny anymore, and he couldn’t stand the thought that the man he loved would never love him back.

He had tried to tell Jackson how much he loved him, wanted to be his boyfriend not his master. But Jackson was so fixated on needing to have the cure to please his master that he didn’t seem to hear anything else. In his anger at himself for being so stupid all those months ago he ended up shouting; but Jackson didn’t know why, he just thought his master was angry at him. 

But Danny wasn’t, he was angry at himself, and scared, over what was going to happen when Jackson was cured. Jackson fled the house and he just collapsed to the floor and wept; at what he’d done and what he was losing. He had thought Jackson would come back, and that he could take him to Stiles to ask about the vaccine. But it’s been over an hour and there is no sign of him.

The only person he can think to call now is Stiles, maybe Jackson has already gone to their…his alpha. Hopefully if he explains to Stiles then Jackson would listen to him, and when the kibble isn’t affecting him he’ll be able to forgive him.

  


Jackson slowly wakens. He’s not sure how long he’s slept; Stiles and Deaton told him it could be anywhere from eighteen to thirty hours as the vaccine worked through his system.

“How are you feeling?” Mrs McCall asks him from the bottom of the bed where she is looking through some papers on the clipboard.

“Fine,” he croaks.

“Here,” she hands him a glass of water, “Sip it slowly.”

“I’ll let Deaton know you’re awake,” she smiles at him, “And there are some others that will want to know, your pack have been anxious for news. I’m sure after Deaton’s checked on you that he’ll allow Stiles and Danny…”

“ ** _Not Danny!_** ” he snarls, his eyes flashing amber before he controls himself; stopping the shift that threatened.

He remembered everything about the humiliation and pain he felt at his so-called best friend’s hands. And Stiles had been right, the cure had proved just how affected he had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-09 -- Danny
> 
> Danny is sitting in his car. His heart is going a mile a minute; it feels like it will beat its way right out of his chest.
> 
> He’s waiting on Jackson showing up. He sees some of the werewolves gathering around the stairs, he remembers some of the faces from when they naked and collared; there are some of the Alliance Centre people there too, he’d heard they were going to be here to act as counsellors for the werewolves. There is small group of protestors, parents that have pulled their kids from the school, waving banners, _‘keep your filthy paws off our kids’_ ; seriously, what do they think is going to happen. He saw on the news how there have been some demonstrations against the integration, but outside of a few isolated areas the protests haven’t been as large as some people had expected. Most people don’t seem to have a problem; it’s just the minority that do are being very vocal about it.
> 
> He sees Stiles’ blue jeep pull into the parking lot and watches as they all get out and then circle around Stiles. They are walking towards the stairs when they are joined by a blonde haired girl, there’s a guy with her that he recognises, and then he sees Ethan walking up to them smiling, _at Jackson_.
> 
> He has to move now. He jumps out of the car before he can think about what he is doing and change his mind. He runs up to them, his feet slapping against the ground.  
> “Jackson!” he shouts to get his attention. He hears some of the other students laughing, but he ignores them.  
> Jackson turns to look at him, his eyes widening in surprise, and… _horror_.


	9. Danny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
> 

Deaton looked over the results from the latest scans one final time.

Comparing Scott’s results with Isaac’s clearly showed that he was affected far less than Isaac; of course Isaac had been enslaved for longer, and had developed a larger build-up of the aconite in the key areas of the brain than Scott. The changes in the areas that affected the brain chemistry was a different matter with both showing a similarly skewed levels of the key chemicals responsible for pleasure as well as submissive behaviours. Some of the readings can be explained by the naturally submissive nature of delta werewolves, but Scott was not a delta. Derek’s levels have increased, but are still lower than those of a beta werewolf that had not been enslaved. Clearly the kibble was doing more to the brain than he could address with only Marin and Melissa to help him.

He does also need to allow for the fact that the changes to the changes to the production of the chemicals only begins to occur when the enslaved werewolf accepts the owner as their master. For Derek, Scott and Isaac this had only occurred when Stiles had become their owner, therefore the changes must be recent, which could work in their favour and mean that the changes are easier to reverse; despite KWE’s own report stating they were permanent. 

Derek’s system is still clean of the wolfsbane thankfully; however, it won’t be clear if the changes are permanent until after the birth of his twins.

The results with Peter and with Jackson are looking promising, and both have shown reversal of the symptoms in under thirty-six hours. Peter is still being tested daily and thankfully has not shown any sign of the symptoms returning.

Now, with Jackson’s results, they’re more confident that they have a solution they can move forward with. But right now he needs to call Stiles; he will want to know that Jackson is awake, and that the procedure worked. And he’s certain to want Scott and Isaac to be treated as soon as possible.

  


Derek looked down his body, and watched with joy as the hair that had regrown over the last few months was washed away in the cascade of water from the showerhead; the depilatory cream that had been applied to his body from the neck down by Stiles had irritated his skin more than usual due to his being pregnant, but it was already healing. The sense of relief and satisfaction he felt at his mate re-establishing his dominance over him was nearly euphoric; and he could feel the same contentment and joy radiate off Scott and Isaac.

He had watched as Stiles washed Isaac; Isaac’s cock hard and dripping as he stood under the spray and Stiles lathered his body, Stiles hands gliding down his chest and teasing his nipples. Scott was standing beside Derek, whimpering in his arousal as he watched their alpha bathe and tease his mate; Scott’s own dick hard and dripping.

_ “Please alpha…” Isaac gasped. _

_ “What Isaac? What do you want?” Stiles rested his mouth against Isaac’s ear and breathily asked, clearly as aroused as his pack. _

_ “Please…” Isaac’s breathing is ragged and Derek and Scott both can’t contain the needy growl as they watch the scene before them. Stiles’ hand slipping down Isaac’s back and over the globes of flesh before his fingers tease between the cleft of his ass. _

_ “Is this what you want?” Stiles asks as Isaac pushes back against his fingers, the disappointed whine escaping him as Stiles moves his hand back, keeping his fingers teasing Isaac’s hole; but not allowing them to breach inside. “Do you want my fingers inside you, jabbing at that sweet spot of yours, teasing it, massaging it, and rubbing it until you’re howling your pleasure for everyone to hear?” _

_ “Please, yes, please…”  _

_ Stiles’ hand presses firmly against Isaac’s ass. Derek can see the muscles in his forearm contract and relax as Isaac writhes and gasps, his cock hard and bouncing at the stimulation Stiles is giving him. _

_ “Come for Isaac,” Stiles whispers in his ear, and Isaac sprays his release over the shower wall in front of him as his ass cheeks clench around Stiles hand. _

After Stiles quickly cleaned Isaac again he coated him with the hair removal cream from the neck down. Once the cream and hair had been rinsed from him and his smooth skin was patted dry Stiles beckoned Scott to join him. Scott grabbed the lube from the counter top and Derek barely contained his laughter as the eager puppy nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to join Stiles in the shower for the same treatment that his mate had received; his cock ramrod straight and pointing out his excitement.

“You okay babe?” Stiles asks him as he kisses the back of Derek’s neck, Stiles’ hand glides over the bump of Derek’s belly; his cock softening and slipping from Derek’s ass. He had been the only one that Stiles had fucked.

“Yeah,” he answers as he turns his head around to kiss his mate, “Just very happy”. Stiles smiles at him.

“We should get out of this shower before I look like a prune, I’ve been under this water three times as long as the rest of you.”

“Well whose fault is that?” Derek teases him, “You could have had sex with us before we showered.”

“Grrr,” Stiles nips at his jaw, “Maybe I’ll just spank Scott and Isaac if you’re going to point out flaws in my sexy-times ideas.”

“If that’s what you want…” he replies turning the shower off, bending over to show off his ass as best he could, knowing that his mate enjoys spanking them all too much to follow through on his threat. He can’t supress the snicker when he hears his mate’s heart racing as turns and sees Stiles glowering at him.

  


When Derek and Stiles walk back into the bedroom they find Scott and Isaac lying naked on the floor, their arms wrapped around each other as Scott’s tongue seeks to forces its way to the back of Isaac’s throat. Clearly being mates, and being turned on, has distracted them from following his orders and the fact they are supposed to be back to their normal routine.

“You guys were supposed to be picking out clothes to wear,” Stiles reprimands them as he walks through the door. The air heavy with the scent of Isaac’s natural lube glistening from his thighs. He can’t keep from smiling down at them; the smile’s returned back at him when they realise he isn’t really angry with them.

“So, pick out what you wanna wear today, then we can get back to our routine with a spanking, it might just remind you who’s in charge,” Stiles sees the change in Scott’s expression, the cloud of disappointment that fills his eyes. “I’m not going to force you to take a spanking if you don’t want to Scott, or any of you,” he tells them.

“No, I mean yes, I mean it isn’t that I don’t want you to spank me,” Scott’s blush covers his body as he stumbles over his reply.

“Then what’s wrong?” Stiles asks, his brow crinkling in confusion. Scott looks down at the floor, unable to meet Stiles gaze.

“It’s just that… we haven’t… we’re not really following our routine anymore…”

“I know things haven’t been the same over the last few months, even before the invasion things were changing; but I promise you, from now on I intend to be the top you need for as long as you want me to be,” as he says the words Stiles hopes that is going to be a very long time.

“But this morning you missed something, we haven’t done _everything_ we used to,” Scott whines; Stiles raises his eyebrows, giving him a look of expectation and trying to encourage him to say exactly what he means. Stiles watches the bob of Scott’s Adam’s apple as he builds up to saying what he really means, “This morning you didn’t let us drink… you know…”

“If you wanted a glass of water you could have taken one, you know where the glasses are and how the facet works…” Stiles continues to tease him.

“ _Noooooo_ ,” Scott’s pained whine is nearly loud enough to wake the entire street, “You know what I mean.”

“Scott, if you can’t ask for what you won’t get it,” Stiles’ stern tone has Scott baring his neck in submission.

“I’m sorry,” Scott’s apology is quick but sincere, and quickly followed by a rush of words, “ _It’s just you always let us drink your pee in the morning… and you haven’t, even though we’re supposed to be following our routine._ ”

Stiles pulls Scott into a hug until he is sitting in Stiles’ lap with his nose buried against his neck.

“I’m not gonna do that…”

“But…”

“Let me finish,” Stiles cuts off Scott’s protest, “If after you’ve been cured you still want to be my piss puppy then we’ll do that, when you’re very good. But you have to be able to tell me what you want. In fact, once all of you have been cured we need to sit down and define our relationship; whether you still want a Dom/sub relationship with me, or I’m your alpha and nothing more than that, or whether you even want to be in my pack.” 

There are whines from all of them at those final words.

“Well discuss it later, after you’ve been treated. Anyway, even if you do still want the kind of relationship we have now, we will still need to sit down and work out what will change. You’ll need to define what you want out of the relationship, define your limits. And I’ll need to define mine. I’ll want it all written down…”

Stiles talk is interrupted by his phone blaring out the ringtone he set for Deaton. Derek answers it and passes the phone to Stiles, who’s still trapped under a clingy Scott sitting on his lap.

“Well,” Stiles says after talking to Deaton and hanging up the call, “As you probably all heard Jackson is awake, so it looks like spankings are postponed and breakfast will be a Sausage Breakfast Burrito from BK on the way to the Alliance Centre.”

  


Danny collapsed on his bed; he felt numb.

“ _He just needs time_ ,” Lydia had said as she drove him home. He’d gone to the centre to see how Jackson was doing, only to find his worst nightmare had come true; even though it had been expected he still felt like his heart had been crushed. Now he was alone in his room, left to think on every stupid mistake he had made since he bought Jackson. Lydia had offered to stay with him until his parents got home, but he couldn’t stand the thought of having anyone around.

And he knew that Jackson didn’t need time. Not after the way he had treated him; _the cane soaked in wolfsbane, the diapers and calling him Fifi_. The things he had made him do, in public, in front of everyone at school. _Some of those had been videoed and posted on-line and the comments that had been posted; the things he had said himself_.

He tried to make up for what he had done, and what he had said, after Stiles had talked to him; made him see how wrong he was. How wrong everything was. But by then it had been too late; Jackson just wasn’t Jackson anymore. He was the obedient slave-pet that Danny had made him.

Now Jackson is himself again, and Danny needs to find some way to be allowed to beg for his forgiveness.

  


Jackson looks from the burnt out shell of his former home back to Stiles.

“Their bodies weren’t found in the rubble, the best anyone can guess is that when the invasion happened they torched the place to make sure none of the Alliance could make use of it or the stuff they weren’t taking and headed east,” Stiles’ voice is so emotionless. But then Jackson doesn’t feel anything about it, or them.

“I tried to be the son they wanted,” he says looking his alpha in the eye, “For so long I tried to be what they wanted, hiding what I really was not just because it was safer for me, but for them too. He visited me once you know, my da… Mr Whittemore, when I was at the Argents’ facility a few days after we were taken. 

He came to inform me that they were ashamed that they for all the years I had been in their house, pretending to be their son, not once had they realised what I really was; if they had they would have turned me over to WERES themselves. I had made them look foolish, many of their lodge friends were disowning them, and they had been removed from the Hunting Friendly Society Social Committee. I’d cost them their standing in the community.

He also wanted me to know that obviously the life insurance policy on my birth parents couldn’t be paid to slave-pet, and had been incorrectly filed anyway as it listed both of them as human and that was clearly false; so the policy was void anyway and he couldn’t get a cent from it to make up for the humiliation I had caused them.”

Jackson felt his alpha’s arm wrap around him. He leans into the embrace and turns to face him, burying his nose against his neck and inhaling his scent. He’s not sure how long they stand there in the driveway of the burnt out shell.

“Come on,” Stiles says to him, “Let’s get you home.”

“Home?” he says questioningly replies, lifting his head from Stiles’ shoulder, “That monster’s house is not my home.” Nearly roaring at his alpha.

“I know that, but my house can be,” Stiles smiles at him, “It’s your home for as long as you want Jackson. You’re pack, and pack is family; didn’t you know that?”

“Home…” Jackson smiles back, “Home sounds nice.”

  


Scott and Isaac are sitting together on the couch in the office at the centre; hands held tightly as the press against each other. They are here to be given the vaccine. They both know the drastic change in Jackson, and his relationship with Danny, since he got the vaccine. Jackson won’t even talk to Danny, and he moved in with the rest of the pack at Stiles’ house. And Scott gets it, he saw some of how Jackson was treated by Danny when Allison owned him; but he also saw how it changed overnight. When Jackson found out why it changed for some reason that only made things between them worse.

Danny had come to the centre looking for Jackson; the pack was there, and Ethan was hanging out with them; his arm draped over the back of Jackson’s chair.

_ “Please Jackson, I just want to say I know how wrong I was, and I’m so sorry for what I did,” Danny pleaded; Scott could smell the hurt and sorrow pouring off him, the bitterness of Danny’s guilt nearly chocking him. Jackson wouldn’t even look at him, but Danny kept talking. _

_ “I have been in love with you for so long, but I believed what WERES taught; and so when I thought that you had been bitten I thought I had lost the real you, that you were an animal walking around in my best friends skin. But you know you were right, even then Stiles was looking out for everyone and helped me realise I was wrong. He explained to me that you weren’t the one that had been bitten; that you had always been a werewolf, I didn’t know, I thought the man I I loved had died that night, that he had been taken over by an animal the night of the alpha’s attack. Stiles helped me see that even if you had been the one bitten…” _

_“_ **_That’s why you started treating me differently?_** ” _Jackson looks up at Danny then, growling his words as his eyes shine yellow, “You thought I was an animal because I was a werewolf. It took Stiles explaining to you that whether I was bitten or not I’m still a person for you to treat me like one; you were my best friend, but it was Stiles, who I treated like shit, who had to explain that to you. You think I didn’t hear all the arguments with your parents, how they thought what you were doing to me was wrong? And you…”_

Jackson rose from the table the pain and anger filling his eyes as he turned and moved from the group; unable to even look at Danny, Isaac and he had rushed to Danny’s side and held him, nuzzling at his jaw to try and calm him as their alpha and Derek lead Danny out. Ethan had been trying to rub Jackson’s back, but Scott kept knocking his hand away with his own.

“Are you scared?” Scott asks his mate. He knows they both are, the sour scent of it in the air; but wonders if it is for the same reason; a fear that his relationship with Stiles will fall apart like Jackson’s and Danny’s.

“A little,” Isaac quietly replies.

“I don’t want things to change,” Scott looks across pleadingly at Isaac.

“Me neither,” Isaac replies with a wistful smile, “I only just got a pack, a mate and a family again; a place I felt I could be myself. I want to hold on to what we have with our master… our alpha.”

The door opens and Scott’s mom walks in.

“Okay boys, Deaton is ready for you now…”

“Can we be treated at the same time?” Isaac interrupts her, asking with saddest puppy eyes, “In the same bed?”

Scott looks pleadingly at his mom too.

“How about we push two beds together, will that do?” she asks in reply.

“Thanks mom,” Scott smiles, his grip on Isaac’s hand never faltering.

  


Danny sits with his head in his hands.

He’d had to bag up Jackson’s clothes, such as they were, and send them to Stiles’ house. There were only a few pair of pants, shirts and underwear; if he had gotten him too many clothes it would have looked suspicious. He’d added one of his shirts to the bag, one that he had found Jackson curled up with some days; his nose pressed against the fabric. It’s been returned to him.

One of the twins, Ethan he thinks, brought back and informed him that ‘ _Jackson doesn’t need something with his former enslaver’s scent; he has his pack_ ’.

Danny knows that Jackson feels utterly betrayed by him, and that hurts so much. But it is nothing compared to how Danny feels about himself. He wants Jackson to forgive him, but how can he expect him to do so when he knows he can’t forgive himself. His actions were despicable; with what he knows now they were unconscionable. 

His recent actions too have been less than acceptable. He knows that he said he didn’t want Jackson to take the cure as it was untested and untried. And yes, that was the truth. But the bigger reason was fear. He was afraid of losing Jackson from his life.

Stiles says not to give up, to give Jackson time to process his feelings; and when Stiles is with him, talking to him, he can sense a small hope flare inside him. He can believe that he may be able to be forgiven and to rebuild his relationship with Jackson; even if it is only as friends.

He has to try everything he can though, he won't give up until he knows he has done everything he can; so he plans one more attempt to show Jackson he is truly sorry for when they return to school later this week. In front of the whole school he will declare his love for his werewolf.

  


“It’s not what I was hoping to see,” Deaton intones as he scans the latest results from the patients that the serum has been given to.

“Less than one in three werewolves are responding to the serum; they just are not compatible genetically and are rejecting the stem cells,” Marin looks as dejected as he feels, “And with humans it is even less, where the serum has had any affect in repairing their immune system it seems to only be a short remission before the patients relapse.”

“I don’t think that is just the case for humans,” Melissa adds as she passes the tablet pc for them to look at, “While the werewolves that have responded to the serum all still show the tissue and cell regeneration is still present, _except for Derek_ , the first to receive the serum are starting to show a build-up of the aconite in their blood stream again. It would only be a matter of time before…”

“Damn it!” both Marin and Melissa jump at Deaton’s outburst.

“I think I know someone who might be able to help,” Melissa looks between the other two as she talks, “In Seattle I met a doctor who was studying the effects of kibble after the report was leaked onto the internet, his research might show us something we’ve missed.”

“Who?” Deaton wasn’t aware that anyone else had been looking at the effects this cocktail of wolfsbane caused.

“Dr. Conrad Fenris, he is a Neurobiologist, a human, and I think he was sympathetic to werewolf equality, but I’ve lost contact with him since the Alliance took over.”

“Well, let’s see if our people can find him.”

  


He awoke before Isaac did. His first reaction was panic, that either the cure hadn’t worked on him, or that the something was wrong with Isaac. But Deaton and his mom quickly calmed him; explaining again that the more there is for the serum to repair the longer it will take for the patient to waken. And Isaac had more of the aconite in his system. He wouldn’t let them take him for the scans until Isaac was awake so they could go together. And the relief that flooded him when his eyes fluttered open. Without thinking he caught Isaac’s lips with his own, could tell the flicker of doubt in Isaac as his first instinct was to back away before he leaned in against him and the force of Isaac’s lips pushing back matched his own. They kissed and held each other until Deaton arrived.

Their test results showed the cure had worked for both of them.

Now, as he sits in their… Stiles’ room waiting on him to come and discuss what he wants to do now that he is cured; he’s scared to ask for what he wants, just as he was before he was enslaved. Everyone says that he was less affected as he’d mostly been fed the Argent kibble, but it still made it easier for him to accept and act on his fantasies. And it wasn’t like he really had a choice. But if he told them that he still wants to call Stiles his master; that he really wants to give him the same level of submission… _what would they think of him? What would **Isaac think of him?**_

He looks up as the door opens and Isaac walks in, closing the door he sits beside him against the cage. Isaac takes his hand in his and entwines their fingers.

“What’s up?” Isaac asks, his voice a soft gentle breeze against his cheek.

“Nothing,” he curses himself silently at his obvious lie.

“I’m a werewolf, and your mate, I can tell,” Isaac lightly noses along his jaw; Isaac pulls back from him slightly and looks squarely at him as he asks, “Don’t you want to be with master… Stiles anymore?”

“No…” Scott starts to reply then stops trying to find his words, he catches the sudden scent of worry from his mate and realises how his half reply sounded, “It’s not that…” Isaac relaxes against him, he rushes out the next words not allowing himself the chance to back out of saying it, “I’m scared. I know I liked… like submitting… no I love it; I dreamed about it for years. But now, all those old fears I had before are returning; no matter how much I still want to call Stiles my master.”

“Me too,” Isaac confesses quietly into his ear.

“Good,” he smiles to his mate.

  


The alarm blasted through the warm fog of sleep and Jackson’s hand shot out behind him to shut it off. He curled back in against the warm body in front of him, trailing his nose along Scott’s collarbone.

It had been strange that first day after waking in the medical ward in the Centre; remembering everything that had happened since he and Scott had been enslaved, but feeling so very different about it. He felt cold inside thinking back over the ways that Danny had used him, broken him down until he really was nothing more than a slave-pet. He had thought that maybe Danny’s sudden change in how he treated him could have been his realisation that he was still the same person, and that he loved him. But it wasn’t, it was because his alpha had told him. Danny had been his best friend, his one true friend, but he feels so betrayed by him; when Danny found out he was a werewolf he thought so little of him until Stiles was able to make him see that Jackson was still the same person, still the friend he had always been. _What sort of friend does that make him?_

The nights they had held tightly to each other under the covers of Danny’s bed, the comfort he had taken in thinking he was loved as much as he loved Danny. Now he can’t be sure that any of those feelings were true.

He allows himself to be comforted by the reassuring warmth and smell of pack that surrounds him. He feels more settled, his wolf felt is more settled, than he has been in years. There is still something missing, but he couldn’t put into words what it was. He had a pack that he belonged to, an alpha he could turn to with his problems and he would listen to him and help him.

Sleeping with his pack was a new experience, one that his wolf was more than happy with; and one that he has come to look forward to each night as they curl up together in a pile under the covers. Derek and Isaac either side of their alpha; Scott the big spoon to Isaac, and the little spoon to Jackson. The scent of the pack lulling him into a night of restful sleep. 

Bathing with them was something his wolf luxuriated in as his alpha soaped his body and scrubbed him clean, and he did the same for his alpha. But Jackson knew that with the rest of the pack this was something more; that it was the start of their alpha exerting his sexual dominance over them and he didn’t want that. He had been worried that Stiles might reject him and throw him out of the pack for not wanting to submit to him sexually, but he didn’t.

_ “I know you don’t want to submit to me the way Derek, Scott and Isaac do; that’s not you Jacks, it never was. You’re not submissive, and it’s not what I expect from you; it doesn’t make you any less part of my pack.” _

It calmed some of the worry that had begun to seep into his thoughts since he had been given the antidote. He saw how Stiles was with his pack, and that kind of submission just wasn’t something he could give; _but he could see the appeal of accepting it_.

The alarm blared again.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles grumbles, “I guess we need to get up and ready for school.”

Jackson felt a mutual apprehension ripple through his pack mates; none of them were looking forward to this. Especially Derek.

It was the first day that werewolves were returning to school, but no longer as slaves; for the first time in decades werewolves were allowed to be students. Stiles had been persuasive in arguing that werewolves should not be segregated, but should be taught in the same schools, in the same classes, as humans. Jackson can see the intention behind it, but he knows it’s not going to be easy; not everyone will accept them being taught alongside humans. 

For the last few weeks they have been having special classes at the Centre, catching up on some of the classes they have missed; or more accurately have sat through at their _owner’s_ feet while doped up on kibble. They’ve also been taking standardised assessments to decide which year they will be in. Jackson, Scott, and Isaac are going to be in the year below Stiles; while Derek is in the separate class for adults.

After a quick breakfast they are in the jeep and heading to school, he is sitting in the back with Scott and Isaac; Derek is in front with Stiles, his leg jiggling in nervousness.

“Derek,” Stiles places a hand on Derek’s knee, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I could finish my education on-line; I don’t need to go back to high school,” Derek growls out.

“But then you’d be home alone all day, and I couldn’t check you were eating a healthy lunch or make out with you in the cafeteria,” Stiles smiles at Derek as they pull into the car park, “Trust me, this is important; part of the reason for integrated schooling is for both wolves and humans to get used to being around each other as equals. Besides, if anyone gives any of you trouble I’ll rip their throat out with my teeth; no one messes with my pack.”

  


Danny is sitting in his car. His heart is going a mile a minute; it feels like it will beat its way right out of his chest.

He’s waiting on Jackson showing up. He sees some of the werewolves gathering around the stairs, he remembers some of the faces from when they naked and collared; there are some of the Alliance Centre people there too, he’d heard they were going to be here to act as counsellors for the werewolves. There is small group of protestors, parents that have pulled their kids from the school, waving banners, ‘ _keep your filthy paws off our kids_ ’; seriously, what do they think is going to happen. He saw on the news how there have been some demonstrations against the integration, but outside of a few isolated areas the protests haven’t been as large as some people had expected. Most people don’t seem to have a problem; it’s just the minority that do are being very vocal about it.

He sees Stiles’ blue jeep pull into the parking lot and watches as they all get out and then circle around Stiles. They are walking towards the stairs when they are joined by a blonde haired girl, there’s a guy with her that he recognises, and then he sees Ethan walking up to them smiling, _at Jackson_.

He has to move now. He jumps out of the car before he can think about what he is doing and change his mind. He runs up to them, his feet slapping against the ground.

“Jackson!” he shouts to get his attention. He hears some of the other students laughing, but he ignores them. 

Jackson turns to look at him, his eyes widening in surprise, and… horror.

“ **What the fuck are you doing** ,” Jackson roars at him.

“I wanted to…” 

“ ** _To remind me of how you humiliated me? How you degraded me in front of everyone?_** ” Jackson roars over him as he tries to explain, “ _Wearing the same kind of diaper and pink plastic panties you had me wear, the same pink feathers in your hair, you think I want or need reminding of that?_ ”

“No… I…”

“ **Just get the fuck out of my sight!** ”

Jackson turns and storms into the school, Ethan, Scott and Isaac quickly following him. Stiles turns to say something to him, but he turns and flees back to his car; ignoring the camera phones that he now notices others holding up.

  


He wakes from a fitful sleep to the sound of his bedroom door opening. When he got home he pulled the fascinators from his hair and threw himself on the bed, he must have cried himself to sleep as he’s still wearing the diaper and plastic panties.

He’s expecting one of his parents to walk into the room, but it isn’t. It’s Stiles.

“You okay?” Stiles asks him.

“Sure,” he chokes out, trying not to cry again, “I just managed to humiliate myself in front of the entire school. And instead of showing Jackson how much I love him and how sorry I am for what I did, somehow I’ve managed to make him hate me even more; and I didn’t think that was possible.”

He watches as Stiles sits on the edge of the bed beside him and lets him pull him into a hug. He needs this hug as Stiles rubs his back and he cries on his shoulder.

“You know, if it’s worth anything I understand what you’re going through; at least a little,” Stiles says, clearly taking pity on him.

“I don’t need your bullshit Stiles, or your pity,” he replies; pulling back and wiping at his eyes with his hand, “Derek loves you, unconditionally. He doesn’t hate you, you treated your pack right from the beginning.”

“No, I didn’t! Don’t you remember the freak out I had when Isaac arrived from that whorehouse that had him?” Stiles looks him right in the eye, “I used Derek’s collar on him.”

“WERES fitted those collars to all wolves…”

“No Danny, I. Used. It. He’s going to give birth to our children and I electrocuted him; and it wasn’t just once either. Do you think a day goes by that I don’t think of that? That I don’t remember what I did to him?”

“He still forgave you though, right?” he asks, hope tinged in his voice.

“Somehow; but you don’t need Jackson to forgive you Danny…”

“What the hell…” he screams at Stiles.

“Just listen, okay?” he feels that edge of command to Stiles voice that he’s seen the wolves react to, the power that makes him their alpha, “I know you want Jackson’s forgiveness; I know you feel guilty, I know that. But, you can’t ask him to forgive you just to ease your conscience.”

“I… I can’t forgive myself for what I did…”

“No, I don’t think you can, you’ll never be able to truly forgive yourself; trust me. We took someone’s rights away from them, and yeah, you tried to show him how sorry you are, but no matter how much you humiliate yourself it isn’t the same when you chose to wear the diaper and panties. He didn’t have the choice, he couldn’t decide not to. And I know you get that theoretically, but you and I will never understand, what it is to be a slave and have your decisions made for you, to not be allowed to say no. And we never will. You just have to find a way to stop hating yourself, and to seek his forgiveness because you want him to be happy, not so you can sleep better.”

Danny knows what Stiles is saying is true, he’ll never understand; unless…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-10 -- Republic (Part-1)
> 
> Scott can’t look at Stiles as he sits across the table from him.
> 
> He knows that Stiles has already had these talks separately with Derek and Isaac; he knows that when he and Isaac were alone he admitted what he wanted to Isaac, and Isaac didn’t reject him, didn’t think he was sick and disgusting. But he is still terrified of saying what he wants from Stiles, still worried that his friend will reject him, and that he will lose not only his alpha, but best friend.
> 
> It's stupid he knows that; after all before he had the kibble cure he was able, mostly, to tell Stiles what he wanted, and he didn’t judge him, didn’t reject him. But now he feels as ashamed of his desires as he did when he was human and pining over having Stiles as his master; too afraid to voice his desires in case he lost what he already had.
> 
> “Scott, look at me,” Stiles uses his commanding tone of voice; Scott can’t ignore him and looks up to face him, “If you don’t want that kind of relationship with me you don’t have to, you know that right?” Scott’s eyes widen at Stiles’ words; he really thinks I don’t want things to continue the way they were before I was given the serum.  
> “You know Derek doesn’t want the exact same kind of relationship we had before; and that Jackson and I don’t have a sexual relationship, let alone a Dom/sub one, and he is still an important part of the pack. So, if you don’t…”


	10. Republic (Part-1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
> 

“We can’t say that we stand for the inalienable right of all peoples to equality and self-determination, for them to choose how to live their lives for themselves; and then say ‘ _as long as that life is lived the way we decide it should be_ ’. To give that freedom to people living within the Alliance Republic we need to accept and allow them to live in consenting relationships that we may not chose to live ourselves…” Stiles wonders about his life choices at times. How is he standing here in front of the Alliance Council arguing for the rights of people to choose to be, more or less, enslaved, and for that life choice to be legally recognised by the Alliance? Oh, because Danny asked to submit to him, asked that he be treated by Stiles as his slave as Jackson had been to him; with no choice but to obey.

Stiles though, he just had to go and point out that it wouldn’t be the same; that Danny would still be able to choose not to obey him as there was no legal recognition of slavery; even if they did draw up a contract between them, like he was doing with Scott and Isaac, legally it wouldn’t be worth the paper it was printed on. But one look at Danny, looking completely broken as he sat there in the pink plastic panties and diaper, and Stiles agreed to consider talking to Alliance Council staff about formally acknowledging consensual contracted Dom/sub relationships within the constitution; but only after he had talked to his mate and he agreed to him taking on Danny as his slave, and then he would talk to the pack and they agreed. Only then would try to sway the constitution of the New Alliance Republic (if the international election observers agreed that the vote to take place in a couple of weeks has been fair and free, and the Republic was therefore recognised by the UN).

So here he was standing in front of werewolves that had recently been freed from enforced slavery, and werewolves and humans who had fought to secure that freedom, trying to convince them that if a werewolf or human wanted to be enslaved they should be allowed to be. Well, really it was more that he was arguing that a Dom/sub relationship should be legally recognised, with a legally accepted contract specifying what rights were being given to each party; but everyone was calling it the Consensual Slavery bill. He did actually believe this was a good idea; that with the relationship and contract being legally binding both the Dom and the sub would be better protected.

He just never expected to actually be here arguing for it.

He thought that Derek would not want him to take on Danny as a sub. But Derek agreed that Danny was pack and needed his help and protection, and that this might help heal both Danny and Jackson.

And despite the fact that he had tried to ensure his conversation with Derek was private Isaac and Scott still managed to overhear them. Isaac was focused on the fact that there was no legal recognition of the contract they were negotiating, or of their relationship; other than their pack relationship of Stiles being his alpha. Scott was rather quiet on the whole thing, rather like his discussions on his contract. Seriously, those discussions were excruciating, since being cured Scotty was not as open and forthcoming about his sexual kinks and desires as he was before; it made negotiating his contract… painful. With regard to Danny, Scott was okay with it if Isaac was. Jackson wasn’t, to say the least; at least initially. However, Derek took it upon himself to talk with Jackson about it. Jackson agreed on the conditions that 

  * Danny had to sleep in the cage
  * Danny was not allowed on the pack bed
  * Danny had to be naked at all times in the house
  * Danny wasn’t allowed to speak without permission



Derek talked him out of the condition of Danny using the puppy pads instead of the toilet by reminding him that the smell would be right under where they slept.

So, here he is being glared at by the nine members of the council, one of whom is his mother and another of whom is Scott’s mom; who knows Scott has asked for one of the very types of contract that he is here asking them to make legally binding documents. _How is this his life? He’d rather be at home with his pack than playing politician._ He can feel the condemnatory gazes judging him, but he won’t bow down to the glares and stares, he will fight to get what his pack needs.

Across the rest of the land, the political debate had continued to rage over the annexing of the five states even after the decision to hold a referendum on the secession of the states from the Union had been announced. The debate then became whether a state seceding from the Union was constitutional or not. It was finally agreed that Alaska, Washington, Oregon, Idaho and California would vote on the proposals for state secession and the formation of a New Alliance Republic. 

The voter turnout needed to be two thirds or more of the registered voters in each state; and each question needed a ‘Yes’ from two thirds of those that actually voted to be considered a pass. The White House had stated it would not recognise the vote otherwise; those five states had an average voter turnout of fifty-five percent, for the last presidential election the highest had been sixty-four percent. The White House also demanded that the whole state of Idaho and California must participate in the vote, not just the geographical area that the Alliance had annexed. The Alliance agreed, despite the fact that more than half the voters in California were outwith the area they had taken; no one could see any form of compromise being reached over the stipulation. It was the demand that the vote take place within six weeks that shocked most people; to organise and campaign for such a major change in such a short timescale… they had until the first week of May to hold the referendum on the states seceding from the Union.

The mood within the Alliance was… pessimistic at best.

On the ballot there were three statements.

  * _I agree that the federal government of the United States of America has pursued acts of extreme social factionalism and tyranny that are against the constitution of the country._
  * _I agree that it is for the betterment of all peoples that the state secedes from the Union._
  * _I agree that the future security, liberty and happiness of the people will be secured within the Alliance Republic._




Each voter would mark their ‘X’ to show ‘Yes’ they agreed or ‘No’ they didn’t. The White House had complained bitterly about the wording, but the UN independent observers had approved the ballot questions.

Derek wasn’t the oldest student in the class and nor was he the youngest, which gave him some comfort; but he was the only pregnant student in the class. This was his favourite class; even before he was enslaved he loved English, he could get lost in book for hours. He’d been reading again since Stiles let him read the graphic novels; and now he read a lot on his tablet. And, as he thought back on it, his passion for reading was only fuelled even more from when he first sat in this class.

_ “Every man has somewhere about him some belief for which he'd die. Only isn't it improbable that your parents and guardians told it to you? If there is one won't it be part of your own flesh and spirit?” _

_ The words were written across the chalkboard in a flowing script. He was sure he recalled them from something he had read before, they seemed to speak to him of something grand, something important. He decided he’d need to remember the words, maybe then Stiles could help him find the book they came from and he could read it again.  _

_ The voice from the doorway stirred a coldness into the room as she spoke. _

_ “The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Cold for all the summer beyond the panes, for all the tropical heat of the room itself, a harsh thin light glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some draped lay figure, some pallid shape of academic gooseflesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly shining porcelain of a laboratory.” She rested against the edge of the desk and looked up from the book in her hand, gazing out across the room and smiled. _

_ “Hi, my name is Jennifer Blake,” she placed the book down on the desk and stepped over to the chalkboard to write her name in the same elegant handwriting as the quote Derek had been reading, “The quote on the board is from EM Forster’s ‘Maurice’, and the passage I read as I entered was from…” _

_ “Brave New World by Aldous Huxley,” Derek interrupted her without thinking; he immediately felt the unease of the wolves around him and as he looked around saw them lowering their gaze to the floor or desk in front of them. He looked back towards the front of the class to Ms Blake and saw her smiling at him. _

_ “Yes,” she confirmed before asking, “You’ve read it? Mr?” _

_ “Hale,” he replied to the last question first, “Yes, I read it before, and Maurice too.” _

_ “Wonderful, maybe you could read the rest of the chapter to the class and then we can discuss it; would you mind?” Derek shakes his head and she passes the book to him. _

_ The rest of the class was spent with Derek reading a chapter aloud and the class discussing it. At first it was only him and Ms Blake, but as the class continued some of the others started to join in. _

Yes, sitting waiting on the teacher arriving Derek knew English was one of the few classes that he enjoyed. Chemistry he just hated; more accurately he hated the chemistry teacher, Mr Harris. He remembered the man from when he was in Stiles’ class, and the man clearly remembered him. Though Harris is more careful how he talks to this group of students now, after he threatened to report him to the Alliance Student Counsellor. Derek allows himself a small smirking smiles as he remembers with satisfaction walking up to Harris as he was leaving the class and growling low at his ear, _“If you ever talk to me, or anyone in this class, or if I hear from my pack mates of you treating them with anything less than respect I will take great pleasure in dealing with you…” he paused then as Harris’s eyes widened and his scent filled with fear, “… by reporting you to the Alliance Counsellor and having you sacked for bullying your students.”_

But this class is English, and as Ms Blake settles on the edge of the desk he opens a Brave New World at chapter twelve and prepares to read.

Scott held Isaac close as they walked to the cafeteria. He could hear Jackson’s low growl, and saw Erica huddle closer to Boyd, as they head as a group to the back table where Stiles he waiting for them. Stiles is looking across at them from where he is seated, concern beginning to show as the furrows crease along his brow.

“What happened?” Stiles asks them in a low growl.

“Brian was an ass,” Boyd answers.

“It’s fine, a werewolf counsellor saw what happened and he’s been taken to the principal’s office already,” Jackson says as Stiles starts to rise from his seat.

Scott can sense the anger roiling off his alpha, his pack mates can feel it too. It’s probably better that he wasn’t there when Brian tried to back Erica into a corner and force his hand… Scott feels his alpha clasp the back of his neck and pull him close. It’s only then he realises their alpha’s anger was a reflection of his and his pack mates’ own, and just how loudly he was growling.

“Jackson wasn’t the only one that wanted to rip him apart then?” Stiles says.

“No,” Jackson answers, “Luckily for Brian, Boyd knocked him to the ground first. Then the counsellor showed up.”

“I heard your dad was here hauling Rosenberg away in the back of his car,” Derek says as arrives at the table. Jackson quickly tells him what happened and why Brian Rosenberg was being.

“You okay,” Stiles asks Erica. She just nods her head in reply, and Scott sees the look that passes between Stiles and Boyd.

“We’ll drop by the counsellor’s office before lunch is over,” Boyd says.

“I shouldn’t let him get to me,” Erica complains, “I mean I’m stronger and faster than him, and… and I just froze when he came near me, I couldn’t stop him.”

Scott doesn’t know what to say, and it seems no-one does; but then Derek speaks.

“There was a poster that Laura used to have on her bedroom wall when we were kids, it had a poem on it; I don’t remember it all, but I remember a bit of it…

_This warrior woman is taking back her life,_  
 _taking back the respect that was taken from her_  
 _throughout the years ever so slow._  
 _This warrior woman is removing pain and hurt from within the heart_  
 _caused by the knife,_  
 _from all those who are both family and foe._

You already have our respect, and you will be able to face him one day and remember that you are a strong, beautiful, warrior she-wolf; and he will hear you roar.”

When Scott looks back across at Erica she has a small smile on her lips as she hides herself against Boyd’s side.

Danny watched them from the other side of the cafeteria. From the pit of his stomach he ached to be sitting with them, and Stiles had said he was still pack; but he knew that Jackson wouldn’t accept him and he wasn’t going to create any tension between Stiles and Jackson.

“I’m pretty certain that they know you’re staring you know,” Lydia gripes from the seat next to his, “We could go over there and ask to sit at their table…”

“Depends on how much you want to get attacked by a pacl of wolves,” he grumbles before looking sheepishly at her, “No… I don’t want to cause problems for Jackson, or make him more upset than he already is,” he pushes his food around on the plate, his stomach so twisted in knots he can hardly eat.

“I still can’t believe you asked him to enslave you, or that he agreed,” she huffs in clear annoyance, “We just got removed one slavery law why on earth would we want to instate another?”

“He didn’t agree,” Danny can feel himself grinding his teeth as he replies, Lydia has harped on about this since he told her, “He said if all of his pack agreed, including Jackson, and if the Alliance Council pass the bill into law, and if the UN recognise the Alliance Republic which will only happen if the referendum vote passes.”

Danny gets why Stiles put so many barriers in the way. He wanted to give him time to think about what he was asking Stiles to do. But just thinking of himself as Stiles’ slave calms the turmoil in his gut; he knows it’s the only way he’ll be able to make amends and feel good again. He knows the pack accepted the idea, because everyone has been talking about the proposal Stiles made to the council. He just doesn’t know what he’ll do if the council reject the bill, or if the Republic isn’t formed. He couldn’t think of going on like this.

Scott can’t look at Stiles as he sits across the table from him.

He knows that Stiles has already had these talks separately with Derek and Isaac; he knows that when he and Isaac were alone he admitted what he wanted to Isaac, and Isaac didn’t reject him, didn’t think he was sick and disgusting. But he is still terrified of saying what he wants from Stiles, still worried that his friend will reject him, and that he will lose not only his alpha, but best friend.

It's stupid he knows that; after all before he had the kibble cure he was able, mostly, to tell Stiles what he wanted, and he didn’t judge him, didn’t reject him. But now he feels as ashamed of his desires as he did when he was human and pining over having Stiles as his master; too afraid to voice his desires in case he lost what he already had.

“Scott, look at me,” Stiles uses his commanding tone of voice; Scott can’t ignore him and looks up to face him, “If you don’t want that kind of relationship with me you don’t have to, _you know that right_?” Scott’s eyes widen at Stiles’ words; he really thinks I don’t want things to continue the way they were before I was given the serum.

“You know Derek doesn’t want the _exact_ same kind of relationship we had before; and that Jackson and I don’t have a sexual relationship, let alone a Dom/sub one, and he is still an important part of the pack. So, if you don’t…”

“No, I…” Scott took a deep breath, “You know I do right? I showed you… the stuff I used before, the stuff I fantasised about,” he can feel the heat crawling up his skin as he talks, he wishes this wasn’t so difficult, “I…”

“You know, I can understand before, when you were human, I mean **_I_** never told you either,” Stiles voice is low as he talks, “All the things I wanted to do to you, drag you naked over my knee and spank you until your ass was red and you were crying, have kneeling naked in front of me while I watched you edge yourself until I was satisfied enough to let you come, plug your ass with a vibrating egg and play with the remote while we sat in Harris’s class…”

Scott whimpers at the thought, his cock hard and feeling trapped in his pants, he wishes he was wearing the sheer pants and nothing else, instead he dressed how he thought people expected him to and not how he wanted, “ _Please_ …” is out of his mouth before he realises.

“Please what? What do you want Scotty?”

“I want you to be my master,” Scott all but whispers.

“Okay, I’d really like that Scotty,” Stiles replies, “Now, let’s start talking about what that means, and about the limits you have, shall we?” Stiles says as he opens the pad of paper and writes _Scott’s Contract_ along the top.

“So,” Dr Fenris continued enthusiastically as Deaton, Morrell and Melissa viewed the details on screen, “From these results I think we can conclude that my hypothesis is correct and conclusively state that the reaction to the wolfsbane strain used in the kibble manufacture causes a form of allergic reaction in werewolves. But when combined with other components in the kibble it becomes far more deadly.”

“It’s acting like a viral infection, and then destroying the CD4 cells and compromising the immune system,” Morrell says as she reviews the doctor’s findings.

“Exactly, but in werewolves their advanced healing repairs that damage and breaks down the compound; only the aconite remains, building up in their system until their body can no-longer cope. Effectively resulting in an extreme allergic reaction that causes the imbalance in their brain chemistry resulting in the extreme aggressive reaction of alphas, and the extreme submissive behaviour of betas and deltas.”

“But humans don’t have the healing capabilities of werewolves,” Melissa states, bring everyone’s attention to her, “Our immune system just becomes weaker and weaker, until any infection becomes life threatening; and we die.”

“Yes, but we have the makings of a cure,” Fenris cheerily says, “In the work you three have been carrying out here. The stem cells you have used for the production of the serum are rebuilding the damage caused, so that the brain chemistry is restored, but it is the anti-allergens that have built up in Mr Stilinski’s system that are being passed on in the stem cells that are the key to a real treatment.”

“But it’s doesn’t always work,” Melissa says with some exasperation in her voice, “Not everyone is compatible genetically with the stems cells produced by Derek’s pregnancy.”

“They don’t have to be,” Fenris replies patiently, “I believe that the stem cells could be from any healthy donor that was genetically compatible with the patient. It is only the anti-allergens that we need to take from either Mr Stilinski or his… partner, Mr Hale.”

“That means the serum needs to be uniquely tailored to the patient!” Deaton ponders aloud, “We don’t have a cure that can be mass produced.”

“No,” Fenris calmly states, “Not unless we can find a way to synthesis a genetically neutral stem cell that would match to anyone.”

“President Palin will see you now,” the young intern informs him as she smiles down at him. He can’t help but smirk at the idea, as if the President had a choice. But then both sides like to keep up the illusion.

He followed the young woman through the corridors and into the office; as expected the Chief of Staff is there with the President.

“Mr Mordin what can I do for the WERES Advisory Council?” President Palin holds her hand out to him as he approaches, he looks at the hand before ignoring it and sitting down opposite her.

“We’re rather concerned about the situation on the west coast…”

“Yes, well, now that the UN has become involved the Security Council is…”

“We don’t care,” he interrupts her, “The UN Security Council does not command the actions of the United States. WERES has a vested interest in the Union remaining intact, and given the large number of wild slave-pets roaming freely once the Union is secured the companies that so generously contributed to your campaign fund will be able to restock their facilities. Though we will need to control their transfer to the market; we wouldn’t want to cause a fluctuation in prices.”

“Quite,” her snippy tone is annoying, but he ignores it; for now. He may need to consider replacing her.

“Good, so this how you are going to secure the Union…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines that Derek quotes to Erica are from [Warrior Woman Has Fully Awoken!](http://www.sapphyr.net/women/warriorwoman.htm)
> 
> \------
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-11 -- Republic (Part-2)
> 
> Jackson is sitting back on Ethan’s bed, he hasn’t been in the other wolf’s room at the centre before; his own wolf is a little unease with none of the familiar scents of his pack around. He came here to watch a film and relax; his alpha and his mate are having some alone time, so are Scott and Isaac. When Ethan asked if he wanted to hang out and see a movie he thought he meant at a theatre.
> 
> He snorts with laughter at the antics of the stuffed toy come to life in the movie they’re watching on Netflix.  
> “You’re cute when you smile, you get that twinkle in your eyes,” Ethan say with a lopsided grin, “I wish you’d do it more often.” He can’t believe Ethan said something so corny.  
> “Well, I haven’t had much to smile about,” Jackson retorts.  
> As Ethan leans in closer to him, a mischievous smirk playing around his lips.  
> “We can always see if I can give you something to smile about,” Jackson hears whispered at his ear, he turns to see Ethan waggling his eyebrows suggestively and he can’t hold back the bark of laughter. And they’re both laughing, and their heads knock together, and they roll together, and Jackson end up on top Ethan, looking down at his smiling face.


	11. Republic (Part-2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
> 

Caleb Newman looked over the data one more time. They were close. So close to achieving a cure for the aconite hyper-allergenic immunodeficiency syndrome.

From his complex in Palm Springs he was able to access every NMC facility network. The data from every system collated to his private network. Including the data from the facility in Beacon Hills. Whether they knew it or not the research Deaton, Fenris and Morrell were carrying out with Mr Stilinski was aiding him in his work.

Field tests have been approved for the Mark-3 sub-dermal implants, within the year every branch of the military will be implanted. The military leaders desperate to ensure that their branch of the armed forces are rendered obsolete. Their careers depended on the fact that their personnel are as strong, agile and resilient as a Lycan. Morrell may have sabotaged the previous versions of the implant, but Caleb has managed to create and demonstrate a working prototype to the defence committee; and now the military top brass are all clamouring for their men and women to have the implant fitted.

Of course, what none of them know, not even his own team at NMC who are producing the implants, is just how it will further his own plans. Each and every one of the armed forces personnel implanted will be turned into a Lycan. Stilinski will be the corner stone of Caleb’s success; he may be considered a success as far as NMC’s original research goals, but the research Deaton and the others have carried out on Stilinski’s DNA show he is far less genetically stable than they hoped. And that makes him no more than a stepping stone for Caleb’s own plans. Their results have finally given him the data he needs to accelerate the evolution from human to Lycan. 

Of course, he will only have a short period of time from the field trials starting to get the implants fitted to all military personnel nationwide. According to the results from his initial test subject the first changes began at sixty days or so. During that time he needs to have the implant in every member of the armed forces. Once they start to turn Washington will certainly pull the plug; so he has to make sure that the military is under his direct control before then.

He can at least be certain that his test subject won’t be telling anyone about the long-term effects of the implant. It was about three weeks after the military top brass and WERES had reviewed the results, and classified the man as still human, that the change occurred. He wouldn’t test as human now however; and if he informs anyone he knows he would be enslaved. And that self-preservation instinct in everyone that is implanted is what he is counting on to give him the control he needs going forward to enact his grand plan.

  


Jackson is sitting back on Ethan’s bed, he hasn’t been in the other wolf’s room at the centre before; his own wolf is a little unease with none of the familiar scents of his pack around. He came here to watch a film and relax; his alpha and his mate are having some _alone_ time, so are Scott and Isaac. When Ethan asked if he wanted to hang out and see a movie he thought he meant at a theatre.

He snorts with laughter at the antics of the stuffed toy come to life in the movie they’re watching on Netflix. 

“You’re cute when you smile, you get that twinkle in your eyes,” Ethan say with a lopsided grin, “I wish you’d do it more often.” He can’t believe Ethan said something so corny.

“Well, I haven’t had much to smile about,” Jackson retorts.

As Ethan leans in closer to him, a mischievous smirk playing around his lips.

“We can always see if I can give you something to smile about,” Jackson hears whispered at his ear, he turns to see Ethan waggling his eyebrows suggestively and he can’t hold back the bark of laughter. And they’re both laughing, and their heads knock together, and they roll together, and Jackson end up on top Ethan, looking down at his smiling face.

He feels his own smile falter as memories of Danny looking at him like that stir behind his eyes. He sees the sudden anxious look in Ethan’s eye and then Ethan is stretching up and their lips meet and…

“What was that for?” Jackson asks him, pulling back and feeling Ethan’s arm slide from around his back, the heat and touch rousing him; but his gut twists with a feeling of guilt.

“You weren’t smiling,” Ethan’s own smile is a little unsure.

Jackson had known of Ethan’s attraction to him. He found him attractive too, and enjoyed his company, but… but he just isn’t ready to be serious with someone. Not after…

“You know I like you right?” he says, the awkward tension like static in the air.

“But…” Ethan cautiously says.

“I’m not looking for anything… I mean I can’t date someone, just now I mean… I just…”

“I understand that…” Ethan finishes for him.

“Yeah?” He can feel the weight of disappointment hanging in the air, and catches the slight change in the air as tinge of sourness edges at the scent.

“We can be something else; just friends… with benefits… if that’s all you want, for now. Nothing wrong with making sure you get the attention you need, even without being more.” He catches the air of hope in Ethan’s voice, and he wants to feel that hope too; but he catches the faint flutter of a lie in Ethan’s words, he knows Ethan wants more.

But he can't remember the last time someone looked at him the way Ethan looks at him, and knowing they want him for who he is, not for what they can make him; he knows his attraction to Ethan is real and not created by the chemicals poisoning his mind. Even if he doesn't feel as strongly for Ethan and Ethan does for him, it’s a real connection and he wants something real more than he can stand. He needs to feel wanted and not feel used, and he wants to put the past behind him, to move on and have that connection with someone else that the rest of his pack has; and maybe… maybe he can do that with Ethan.

“There’s definitely benefits to being friends,” he smiles down at him, then leans in to capture his lips. Suddenly there are too many clothes between them and hands are frantically searching for skin, and the heat and warmth of another body.

They’re lying in a tangle of sweaty limbs, the air thick with the smell of sex. Ethan is the first man he’s fucked since he was being trained at the facility; the first to feel so right and good and tight to be inside of since Scott. He smiles across at Ethan, looking happy and sated, and he feels good too, better than he has for a while; but there is still a twinge of something… something that needs to pass.

“I better go, before my alpha starts to worry,” he says.

“You wanna have a shower first? So you don’t smell so much like another pack,” Ethan grins at him as he rises from the bed, his eyes trying to hide a worry Jackson knows is there.

“Desperate for me to not have your scent all over me after we spent a couple of hours fucking?”

“No, I like you smelling like me, and me smelling like you.” At Ethan’s words Jackson feels that pang.

“We’re still good right?” he asks him, “We’re still…”

“Friends, sure” Ethan says and the smiles doesn’t quite reach his eyes; but Jackson ignores that.

“Cool,” Jackson says with a smile as he slips on his shoes, turning to look at Ethan, “I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can hang out and actually watch the movie?”

“Sure,” Ethan smiles back. Jackson kisses him on the forehead before he turns and leaves.

  


When Jackson returned home, and he did find himself thinking of the place as home – it was where his pack was after all, Stiles was sitting alone in the living room.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he said.

“Derek, Scott and Isaac are,” Stiles replied a little coolly, “I thought you’d have been home before now, I was worried when you didn’t text or call. It’s still dangerous out there you know.”

Jackson looks at his phone, the icon showing for a missed call.

“Sorry,” he says, “We were watching a movie.” He can feel himself blush as Stiles raises an eyebrow questioningly at him, “We started watching a movie.”

“Jacks…” the quiet tone to Stiles voice unnerves Jackson, he’s suddenly expecting a lecture about what a disappointment he is.

“No,” he interrupts his alpha, “Don’t lecture me about having sex with Ethan; do you know how long it’s been since I chose who I had sex with, who I kissed, or hell even just spent time with? Hell, you’re bringing the guy that had control of all those choices about my life into our home; so don’t…”

“One, I’m not lecturing you; I was going to tell you to be careful. After everything that happened with you recently I can't imagine rushing into a relationship is best for anyone. You're my first concern but that doesn't mean you're the only one who will get his heart broken if things go sour,” his alpha’s stare still suggests to Jackson that he’s disappointed in him, “Two, I know you can’t be fond of the idea of him living here, after snarling your expletive filled ‘no way’ at every pack mate for a day, but you were asked and you said he could with conditions…”

“I didn’t think he would agree to them, did I?” Jackson nearly yells back.

“He doesn’t get to know what they are, and he doesn’t get to agree to them, he would have no say,” the words shock him as Stiles continues, “He didn’t ask to submit to me like Scott or Isaac, Danny asked me to be enslaved with full control of his life in my hands; just like a slave-pet. I’m the only one who gets to agree to them.”

“ ** _He’s wasting his time_** ,” he snarls, “ _I still won’t forgive him_.”

“He’s not asking to do this to get you to forgive him, he’s trying to understand what he did to you. He wants to be able to look you, and himself, in the eye. This is his way of paying penance for what he did; because he can’t forgive himself.”

“ ** _Understand?! What’s so difficult for him to understand?_** ” Jackson’s anger smoulders in like a smoky heat, “ _He shouldn’t forgive himself, because I never will_.”

“Jackson, you remember the day Isaac arrived here?” at his nod Stiles continues, “You remember my meltdown in the bathroom? You had to have heard me.”

“You thought you were a monster, but Derek and Scott kept telling you that you weren’t.”

“Yeah, I still don’t get that,” Jackson is confused, he doesn’t get what Stiles is trying to tell him, “It’s not the same as you and Danny, but I didn’t treat Derek and Scott well either. I made them drink my piss, I used the shock collar on them, on Derek more than once. I know why I did it; but I haven’t forgiven myself for doing it and I don’t understand why they have. I’m just grateful that they still want to be with me.”

“What’s that got to do with Danny?” Jackson quietly asks.

“He’s trying to understand how he could do what he did; but if you really don’t want him to…”

“He’ll be a slave, just like I was? He’ll have to do everything you tell him, no matter what?”

“Yes.”

“Then he can submit to you, but I still won’t forgive him.”

“Just remember, there aren't many people who would try so hard to make things right. It might not earn him your forgiveness, but it's worth remembering.”

They sit silently side by side for a while, Jackson not realising that he has leaned into his alpha’s touch and he’s accepting his alpha scenting him.

“So, you and Ethan dating then?”

“No,” he rolls his eyes, “We’re just friends, with benefits.”

“Ah-huh.”

“Yes, I told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship just now, and he suggested just being friends with benefits.”

“And he’s not forcing you…”

“No!”

“Okay then, as long as you’re happy.”

“Yes dad.”

  


“Someone has been accessing the data,” Deaton states in a matter of fact manner.

“How?” Marin asks, “I thought all the firewall ports that the other NMC facilities connected through were closed.”

“They are, but someone is reading these files. They masked their IP address, but they are not attempting to hide the fact they were there as the event logs show the access. They are also writing…”

“They’re amending the files, changing the results?”

“No, they are leaving other files.”

“There aren’t many people who could access these systems like that.”

“Thankfully we won’t need to guess for long. After Newman’s attack on Stiles I was concerned about the security of our data. It will take some time, but we may be able to use this to our advantage in the long-term.”

“Is this data what I think it is?”

“Yes, it appears to be a way to make the cure for everyone.”

  


President Palin knows that WERES wants her to order an attack now. But she can’t.

She has to consider the consequences. The international repercussions would be a disaster for the country. She as weighted the vote of the nonsensical referendum as much as she can. No election for the presidency has had more than sixty percent turnout of voters, so the requirement for sixty-six percent should ensure that the result is nullified. Even if it isn’t the requirement that sixty-six percent or more vote to cede from the Union, or join the Alliance should ensure that the vote goes there way. Easily allowing their troops to enter the states with the UN on their side not against them. And allow them to round up the werewolves for WERES to process and arrange to sell.

And if by the slimmest of chances the vote does go against them; this time is needed to position their forces to retake the states by force. There will be little that the UN could do after the event. With their forces fitted with the NMC implant their success will be assured.

  


On the day of the vote Stiles was with his pack at the Alliance Centre sitting with Ethan, Aiden, Erica and Boyd; they were watching the results of the referendum that the whole world had been watching and covering for weeks. Over the last week they had even picked up on his proposal for the legal recognition of Consensual Slavery; which garnered him and his pack a lot of unwanted attention that he hoped would die down soon.

The press had even reported that he put forward the ‘Total Power Exchange Clause’ proposal for Danny. The measure detailed strict requirements for implementation, as well as a full council vote to be accepted. Sadly, this had caused many of the reports to focus on him and to rehash the videos of his treatment of Jackson that had been posted nearly a year ago on the internet; the videos had resulted in some tension between Danny and his parents, and with the pack. Danny wasn’t at the Centre, he had stayed away from them over the past couple of weeks since the events at school, but Stiles had seen him watching them, looking with longing and hope.

Stiles’ mom was in conference room with council members strategizing as the exit poll results came in from the districts around the states. He’d seen a lot of military brass go into the room for a political meeting.

The first news reports that came in confirmed that in each of the five states the voter turnout had been over seventy seven percent. The first hurdle had been cleared.

Oregon was the first to declare. The cheers that were heard around the room as the results for each vote were read out was deafening; the subdued mood in the centre buoyed by the resounding yes to each ballot question.

Washington followed less than an hour later; the results there too were even more positive. The celebratory mood only continued when Alaska’s results were announced. All three states that had declared so far were voting over four to one ‘yes’ to secession and ‘yes’ to the Republic. Only the results of Idaho and California were still to be announced.

The channel they were watching reported that there was incomplete results from both Idaho and California; the international observers informing them that they could not confirm the results from the districts still within US control. However, their early exit results would suggest that both states had voted to secede from the Union and to join the Republic, though by far narrower margins of around sixty-seven percent.

The roar of sheer elation that reverberated around the room was overwhelming, the people of each of the five states had sided with the Alliance; they voted for equality. The next words from the reporters on screen silenced the room.

“We have confirmed reports of US armoured divisions moving on Alliance held towns and cities in Southern California and in Idaho. We have this statement from President Palin issued by the White House Press Office.

‘My fellow Americans; at this hour, US forces are in the early stages of military operations to disarm the so-called Alliance Republic, to free our people and to defend the world from grave danger. 

On my orders, our forces have begun striking selected targets of military importance to undermine the Republic's ability to wage war. These are opening stages of what will be a broad and concerted campaign. 

To all the men and women of the United States armed forces now in engaged in this operation, the peace of a troubled world and the hopes of an oppressed people, our people currently living under the threat of being forced to become werewolves, or the slaves of those animals now depend on you. That trust is well placed. 

The enemies you confront will come to know your skill and bravery. The people you liberate will witness the honourable and decent spirit of the American military.

In this conflict America faces an enemy that has no regard for conventions of war or rules of morality. The Republic has placed Alliance troops and equipment in civilian areas, attempting to use innocent men, women and children as shields for his own military. A final atrocity against our people. 

I want Americans and all the world to know that our forces will make every effort to spare innocent civilians from harm.

My fellow citizens, the dangers to our country and the world, from this self-imposed sham of a government will be overcome. We will pass through this time of peril and carry on the work of peace. We will defend our way of life. We will bring freedom to others and we will prevail. 

God bless our country and all who defend her.’

Viewers; that was the address just given by the President in the briefing room, making no mention of the referendum results…”

No one was paying attention to the TV anymore, their attention taken by the sudden rush from the conference room and the barking of commands to the Alliance military in the room as the newly born Alliance Republic was pulled into a war with the United States of America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-12 -- Republic (Part-3)
> 
> Chris Argent is a shell of the man he used to be; his face gaunt and the clothes hanging from him with the weight he has lost. Melissa has said that he hasn’t left the hospital; using the facilities and cafeteria there. Jacob, at least, is looking better than he did now that he is eating properly; Stiles just had to flash his red eyes at him and tell him how much Allison would be unhappy with him if he didn’t. Jacob has remained here in Allison’s room as he has done since she was brought here. The facility born werewolves aren’t in school with everyone else; they have never had any formal education, so the plan is to complete the assessment of all of them before summer recess. Then over the summer break they will be given crash courses to bring them to a level that they can be integrated into school system. There may need to be specific classes for some of them; just like the class year for adults that Derek is in.
> 
> “You look like shit,” Stiles says to Chris.  
> “What are you gonna do, go all alpha on me too?”  
> “No, I’ll just ask Jacob to force feed you so that Allison won’t wake up and be all sad because her dad is a skeleton sitting in the chair beside her bed,” Stiles can see by Chris’s expression that he isn’t impressed, “It’s not like you’ll have the energy to fight back.”  
> “What’s happening with the company?” Chris asks ignoring him.  
> “You gonna take a shower, shave that mange stubble off your face, get a change of clothes and eat properly so you’re a least respectable for Allison waking up?”  
> “Stiles…”  
> “…” Stiles just stares him down.


	12. Republic (Part-3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> And for reworking most of the Jackson scenes to get them where I really wanted them instead of what I had originally written.
> 
>   
> 

At least in Beacon Hills life has been going on pretty much as normal; they are far enough away from the fighting that is taking place along the borders you’d hardly know they were at war. Those living the reality of war are just a picture or report on the news; there are reports that some of the Union soldiers are as strong and tough as the beta wolves. People can just continue to live their lives unhindered by the atrocities happening far from them; the only pain and hardship of war they deal with is the worry and loss of loved ones.

Stiles and Derek stop by the hospital after his latest scan with Deaton, and for Stiles to catch up on the progress with the cure given the new data _someone_ has placed on the facilities server. Stiles and Deaton are sure that only Caleb Newman could be responsible, but they have Danny analysing the results of the software Deaton had installed to try and trace exactly where the files came from; but given Newman’s intention to make everyone a werewolf it leaves the question, _how safe is it to use the data?_

Chris Argent is a shell of the man he used to be; his face gaunt and the clothes hanging from him with the weight he has lost. According to Melissa he hasn’t left the hospital yet; insisting on using the facilities and cafeteria there. Jacob, at least, is eating properly and looking better for it; Stiles just had to flash his red eyes at him and tell him how much Allison would be unhappy with him if he didn’t. 

As the werewolves born in the WERES facilities have never had any formal education they can’t be in school with everyone else; so Jacob has been free to remain here in Allison’s room, just as he every day since she was brought here. The Council’s plan is to complete an assessment of all of the facility born wolves before summer recess. Then over the summer break they can all be given crash courses to bring them to a level that they can be integrated into school system. There may need to be specific classes for some of them; just like the class for adults that Derek is in.

“You look like shit,” Stiles says to Chris.

“What are you gonna do, go all alpha on me too?”

“No, I may start having Jacob force feed you though. The last thing we want is Allison to wake up and find her dad’s skeleton sitting in the chair beside her bed,” Stiles can see by Chris’s expression that he isn’t impressed, “It’s not like you’ll have the energy to fight back.”

“What’s happening with the company?” Chris asks ignoring him.

“You gonna take a shower, shave that mange stubble off your face, get a change of clothes and eat properly so you’re a least respectable for Allison waking up?”

“Stiles…”

“…” Stiles just stares him down.

“You’ve made your point; the company?”

“Well, I’m not there all the time seeing as there’s this pesky thing where I have to attend high school, but I had Derek’s Uncle Peter, since he had a college degree from before he was enslaved, and it’s been reinstated, he doesn’t have to go to school like Derek and I, so I figured I could him the job of managing the company for us temporarily, while I’m at school and you’re occupied here… anyway I had him set up a holding company, Argent Holdings Limited, with two companies that it owns. First, there is Argent Training Corporation; it uses the facilities and compounds where the werewolves were trained, only now it’s using them to help reintegrate them into society. Second, there is Argent Arms and Accessories; which retools the stores back to what they were before the enslavement bill was passed, selling guns and ammo.”

“What?” he asks seeing the look of wonder Chris has.

“You kept the Argent name on the business…”

“Well yeah, of course I did,” he replies, like it’s obvious, “I’m still only a minority shareholder here, the business does mostly belong to and Allison. There’s clearly been some major losses, and capital expenditure, and the holdings on the other side of the border are in legal limbo right now. So we’ll need to sort that out once the war is over.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes; Chris gently shaking his head with the beginnings of a smile on his face that he hadn’t had for a while. Eventually Stiles couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“So, shit, shower, shave and hot meal. Unless you don’t need a shit, in which case just a shower, shave and hot meal,” he says before he thinks about it, “You know what that was wholly inappropriate and you should just forget I said anything; except really, you should take a few and go home for an hour or so, take Jacob with you.” He sees him looking across at Allison, “We’ll stay here until you get back, promise.”

“Thank you.”

  


“I can smell him all over you,” Jackson holds back the snarl that wants to bite the words out as he sits across from Lydia. She wanted to ‘ _do lunch, at the café place in the centre_ ’.

“Doesn’t Stiles pick up Danny’s scent,” Lydia looks across at him, “I know he visits him too; Danny says how he stops by and checks on him.”

“It isn’t as noticeable, my alpha still smells like pack,” Jackson practically growls at the reminder; because he does notice, but Stiles scent is still more of Scott, Isaac, and especially Derek and his mingled scents, hiding Danny’s.

“I thought Danny was pack?” and Lydia’s question does pull a growl out from between Jackson’s clenched teeth.

“Only because Stiles counts him as pack, Danny never did understand what being pack meant, how important it is,” Jackson snarls as he recalls when they were in Seattle, and when Caleb held them. Danny always held them back from really being part of the pack.

“Well, he’s still my friend; he was your friend too, you know,” her words sting as they remind him of the betrayal he still feels, and the loss it has cost him; the next words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“And? Once upon a time I was your boyfriend; things change,” there’s a fleeting look of surprise in her eyes at his comment before she smiles demurely.

“You mean back when the three of us would eat lunch together in the cafeteria, when we would go to dinner and the movies together, would hang out together at the mall, and study together? Or, do you mean when you and I would have sex while you imagined it was him lying beneath you,” she says looking him squarely in the eye, “It's not like I didn't know, there are only so many times you can invite another man on a date with me before it gets weird.” He can’t help but drop his gaze under her scrutiny, “But I’m glad you did; Danny is my friend now and so are you.”

He’s wishing he hadn’t mentioned catching Danny’s scent on her, this was supposed to be having lunch and catching up on what’s happening in each other’s lives; now he isn’t sure what they’re doing.

“Look, we’re supposed to be having a nice lunch and catching up,” her words mirroring his very thoughts, “Danny is my friend, and just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean you’re not my friend too Jackson. I want to know how you’re doing; I know how hard things must be for you…”

“I’m fine,” he barks, tired of people asking him how he is; and maybe his pack isn’t actually asking him, but he can tell they worry. After all they know something is bothering him, but they don’t know what. That feeling of belonging, and not knowing if he really does; that sense of family that wants so much. He might still have the Whittemore name, but that’s all he has of the family he used to be part of; and it’s something he really doesn’t want. Scott was bitten and he still has a mom who loves him. Derek thought he had lost everyone, but he could have a family with his sister and uncle if he actually wanted one. Stiles has his mom and his dad, no matter how much of a werewolf he becomes. The only one who could really understand is Isaac. Someone who knows what it’s like to have to spend every day trying to make his ‘father’ proud of him, knowing it will never happen; and then to have the only family he had known ripped away; to have someone you love treat you as something unworthy of their respect, let alone their love. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” he responds to her arched eyebrow, “But I am doing fine. I have my pack,” he smiles at the thought, “and I’ve got a part-time job…”

“You have job?”

“Yes,” he can feel his cheeks blush, “I got a job,” he can see her looking expectantly for more details, and he’s not going to allow her to make him feel crap about his job, “At Costco, moving some of the heavy pallets into place. Apparently having a werewolf do it is quicker than using heavy machinery, and they don't need to train me on the equipment. I can get a couple of hours a night during the week and a long shift at the weekend; I get twelve dollars an hour, more than most jobs I could get and it will help…”

“Help what?” He looks at her and she clearly doesn’t understand.

“I can’t keep living at home and not help out financially; the sheriff isn’t paid that much, and there are five of us in the pack now. I know there is money from Argent’s that Stiles gets from the shares he owns, but that’s his money, I need to pay for my upkeep and not be a burden, okay?”

“That’s…”

“Don’t say it’s noble of me…”

“Fine, I won’t, but it is, and it’s a little stupid too, but that’s beside the point” she smirks at him, and he does smirk back, “Though, wouldn’t you make more money working in a solicitor’s office; where it might help towards…”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer,” he interrupts her, “That… that was something the son and heir of the Whittemores wanted to do, to make his parents proud.”

“So,” Jackson can see the change in topic coming; he’s known Lydia too long not to, “Does your new job leave you much time for dating your new boyfriend?” He rolls his eyes at the question.

“Ethan and I are just friends,” and he’s glad she is human; he knows they’re more than friends, and his alpha’s warning is still at the forefront of his thoughts. But he likes what he has with Ethan, and can’t give it up; it’s not like he has lied to Ethan about how he feels.

He sees the mischievous grin appear on her face.

“I don’t recall you and Danny making out in the back of the theatre…” Jackson had thought he and Ethan were in a dark enough corner of the movie theatre not to be seen last week.

“We didn’t, he kept that for his bedroom when I was his slave-pet; after all being a doggie fucker was one thing, but he wouldn’t want people thinking he was a doggy-lover.”

“Jacks I’m…” he can see the concern.

“It’s okay, just… can we steer clear of topic that could be Danny adjacent right now?”

“Sure.”

“So, maybe you can help me work out what career I do want, and maybe suggest how I talk to my alpha about changing my name…”

  


Stiles is sitting in a closed session of the Alliance Republic Council. The nine members of the council sitting behind the outer edge of the large crescent shaped desk, while he is sitting in the centre of the inner edge and is placed equidistant from each of the council members.

“We have just overturned more than forty years of slavery and the imbalance of power for a sizeable population of this country,” the elderly werewolf intones as he looks down his nose at Stiles, “And you would ask that it be reinstated? _Why are we even discussing this?_ ” he asks as he looks around at the other council members.

“That’s not exactly what I proposed,” Stiles loudly retorts, his leg bouncing in agitation.

“No? Then why don’t you explain,” another werewolf from the opposite side challenges him.

“Simple,” Stiles exclaims as he leaps from the chair, unable to remain still any longer, even though it he had only sat down minutes before, “You all accept that a delta is submissive, and will be happier with a dominant mate, right?” he sees the agreement in the wolves eyes, “But they need legal recognition and protection, the first part of this bill is really is the recognition of that same kind of relationship, but where the submissive partner is not a delta, or the dominant is not the delta’s mate; it could be between two humans, to beta werewolves, a dominant werewolf and a submissive human, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that the relationship is consensual, and that the limits of it are _agreed_ between them and legally enforceable to protect both the submissive and the dominant from abuse.”

“It could,” he continues after a moment’s thought, “Even be advantageous for a delta and his mate to have the kind of contracted relationship I’ve proposed as not all humans will necessarily understand and accept that it isn’t a case of spousal abuse.”

“But, aren’t you just looking to use this as a means of having your polyamorous relationship ratified?” Stiles is momentarily stumped by the question; he’d never considered his relationship with Derek, Scott and Isaac as polyamorous.

“It’s true, in part, that two of my pack want to use this law so that I’m recognised as their dominant, so that no-one would could separate us because they thought I was abusing them. But, while I love them, and they love me, we are not in love. They are in love with each other; one of them a delta and the other a submissive beta. And I am in love with my mate, who is a delta. Would it really be wrong of me to use the law to give my pack the security and protection they seek? And if you really see my relationship with them as being the same as my relationship with my mate, so what? In Genesis 4:19 Lamech took two wives; subsequently Esau, Gideon, David and several others were all polygamists, with god’s blessing.”

His answers seems to have made the council members a little uncomfortable.

“We should move to the second part of your proposal,” someone suggests, “This is a little more troubling…”

“I agree. There would need to be stricter safeguards in place than for those with a set of agreed limits…” Stiles begins.

“Do you really believe that what is little more than slavery…”

“It is slavery,” Stiles interrupts, “Consensually agreed total exchange of power, one person giving control of their lives to another. There needs to be safeguards, there needs to be a way of ensuring that the submissive partners well-being, physically and mentally, is protected. It isn’t something that I thought I ever ask to be enacted, but the human member of my pack, my friend, feels he needs this…”

“WERES and the Union administration would have a propaganda field day if we enacted this,” one of the council members roars, “They’d claim that it was nothing more than the enslavement of humans…”

“It is,” Stiles cuts in, “But this isn’t about that really. Too many people are focusing on what is happening and ignoring why. I agree it has dangerous potential, but there are people who need this; who need this to happen. I’m sure that you will be talking to Danny, Mr Mahealani, as you’re already aware that he is the reason I’m asking for this. He believes that it is the only way he can begin to understand his own actions during his ownership…” there are grumblings of malcontent at his utterance of the word, “of a werewolf, and while he doesn’t believe he will ever forgive himself, and I know he won’t, he sees this as some kind of penance that may allow him to come to terms with his actions.”

The council meeting continues for some hours, going over the same points time and again. Stiles is exhausted when he leaves. Unsure whether the vote will be the result he needs for his pack.

  


There were two weeks of heavy fighting along the Idaho and SoCal borders. On both sides there were losses, both military and civilian. The borders didn’t move. Within the Alliance Republic the council asked the UN to step in, after all the international observers had stated that they believed the conditions for the states to leave the Union and form the Republic had been met. Given the majority of the countries that formed the UN still supported the Werewolf Enslavement Bill they were not sure how much support they could expect. But support they got.

UN Peacekeeping forces from several nations were now stationed along with Alliance forces, all from countries that enslaved werewolves; there are no nations that don’t have Werewolf Enslavement Bills in force that are part of the UN Security Council currently. There was tension; there were Russian and Australian soldiers defending California, and Chinese and French soldiers defending Idaho. There were also UN talks on trade sanctions against the US. 

One of the items most raised by the members of the UN during this time was the cure that the Alliance was working on, for the humans affected by the aconite clouds caused by the kibble factory attacks. Claudia knew that they were nowhere near something that could be mass replicated, or that had an acceptable level of success; but they were ahead of every other nation. It was clear that they were not interested in the serum for use on werewolves, which riled her; but what could she expect. It was quickly becoming evident that real reason for the support they had was down to the cure, and the possibility of it being available the people of their countries.

It helped when Union soldiers began to defect to the Alliance; the cause of their switching sides the fact that they were becoming werewolves. Deaton traced the change to an implant that they had been fitted with to increase their strength, stamina and healing to be equal to a beta. It helped them hold back the Union frontline.

It all resulted in a ceasefire being called, and the negotiations for the secession of the states from the Union starting.

  


Jackson found the pack waiting for him at home, with Ethan and the Sheriff, after he got home from work on Saturday.

“Hey, you’re home late,” Ethan says with a peck on his lips, “How was work?”

“Boring, just like always,” he eyes them all suspiciously, before asking warily, “Is everything okay? What’s everyone doing here?”

“Well,” the sheriff starts, “We’ve been talking, and I know you’ve been working as much as you can to help out around the house, and I wanted to do something to say thanks; so, I ran some ideas past Stiles and the pack, and we’re pretty pleased with the results,” he finishes with a smile.

“Though, we don’t want you to take this the wrong way either,” Stiles continues, “And before you ask, it will probably be easier to show you rather than tell you. Come on, it’s upstairs.”

They stop outside the sheriff’s office, though he spent most of his time working out of his office at the station now. It doesn’t take long for the sheriff to start talking again.

“I know you like spending time sleeping with the pack and being around them, and I get that, but it occurred to me that with as many changes you've been through in the past few months, and with everything that happened with the Whittemores, you don't really have anything left that just your own,” he said indicating the door, “After you.”

To say Jackson was scared would be an understatement, all he could do was try not to get his hopes up to much. Even though he knew what to expect he still couldn't stop shaking as he opened the door to his room.

“You don't have to actually sleep in here,” Stiles says. 

“We haven't even put a bed in here yet,” the sheriff adds, “Given how much you like sleeping with the pack. But I think it's important that you have some space of your own. Something that's all yours, after all, you're part of the family now.”

“I want to change my name,” he blurts out. There’s a raising of eyebrows on Stiles and the Sheriff’s face, and a look of confusion on the others, especially Scott.

“Is this because of…” Stiles tries to ask before being cut off.

“No, I mean yes, it is, but it’s not just… it’s everything. In the time I’ve been here you’ve done more to make me feel welcome than the Whittemores ever did. They aren’t my family, I don’t want their name.”

“So, what’s your new name gonna be?” Scott asks, “Oh, you could be a superhero! Oh my god! You can be one of the Teen Titans, Roy Harper would be cool… you know, Arsenal, he was leader of the Titans when Nightwing…”

“So what do you want to be called son?” the sheriff asks, and he knows his pack and Ethan pick up on the speeding of his heartbeat at the sheriff’s words.

“I want… Can I be a Stilinski; I want to take my alpha’s name,” his eyes fall to table in front of him, too afraid to see rejection in Stiles or the sheriff’s eyes, “I want to take my real family’s name.” 

He feels the arms wrap around him and pull him into a hug; the scent of his alpha surrounding him.

“We’ll start the paperwork tomorrow son,” the sheriff says.

Jackson can’t stop grinning into his alpha’s neck as he holds him tightly.

  


Stiles was surprised to be called to the principal’s office, but at least it got him out of chemistry. Sure, Harris hasn’t done anything in weeks, no detention, no snarky comments, but his glowering is… creepy. When he got to the office and found out why he asked for Scott to be allowed out of class to go with him.

When they get to the hospital there are at least a half dozen people outside the room. Chris is standing by the door looking frazzled; leaning against the door jamb while he runs a hand through his hair. When he sees them he walks over and meets them half way.

“If you can’t do something they’re threatening to get someone with a tranquiliser gun to remove him from the room and not allow him back,” there’s an edge of panic to his voice.

“What happened?” Stiles asks.

“Those two,” Chris replies looking over at a couple of matronly dressed women who remind Stiles of Umbridge from the Order of the Phoenix, “Arrived to take Jacob for his school placement assessment; he partially shifted and roared that they weren’t taking him from his mistress.”

“Okay, he’s alone in there now, with Allison?” Stiles asks, at Chris’s nod he says, “Scott and I will go talk to him, get him calmed down.”

“Jacob?” Stiles calls out as they walk into the room, Scott closing the door behind them. There is no sign of Jacob. There are overturned chairs, and his shirt, pants and the rest of his clothes are ripped and scattered about the floor. The only clue to his whereabouts the low menacing growl from below the bed.

Stiles gets down on the floor on his hands and knees to look under the bed.

He comes face to face with a partially transformed Jacob, naked and snarling at him, clinging to the underside of the bed with his claws embedded in the mattress. 

“Jacob…” Stiles starts to say as Scott crouches down beside him.

“Not leaving,” Jacob snarls at him, “Stay; Allison need me.”

“ ** _Jacob Black_** ,” Stiles lets his eyes turn red and the inhuman growl give the edge of command to his voice, “Do not snarl at me…”

“Not my alpha,” Jacob interrupts him; his words are savagely growled out between his fangs and give Stiles pause. Stiles can feel the spike in Scott’s fear, but it is almost masked in the fear that has permeated the room since before they walked in the door.

“No, I’m not,” Stiles more quietly says, letting his eyes fade back to their normal whisky colour, “But I’m your friend, and so is Scott, and we want to help and protect you until Allison wakes up.”

“They come to take me away,” the terrified beta whines, “Not leave Allison.”

“It’s only for a little while…”

“NO!”

“Jacob,” Scott says edging towards him, only to be stopped by a warning growl.

“JACOB!” Stiles retaliates with a warning of his own, “They will bring you back after…”

“NO! They go to get guns, I heard them; they say I don’t get back.”

“Jacob, listen to me,” Scott says, pulling Jacob’s attention to him, “You can hear the truth in my alpha’s words; just listen to him.” Jacobs seems to calm down, the snarling and gnashing of fangs quieting.

“You remember when you went home with Chris, Allison’s dad,” Stiles begins, “You came back later right?” at Jacob’s nod he continues, “This is just like that, except, you’ll be going to a place for them to see how well you can read…”

“I read good, Allison showed me how,” Jacob cuts in.

“Exactly, so they want to see that, and see how well you do math…”

“Counting,” Scott supplies as Jacob frowns in confusion.

“Yeah,” Stiles continues, “Counting and stuff.”

“Why?” Jacob asks.

“Because, like Scott, Isaac, Derek and me, they are making everyone go to school to learn this,” Jacob starts to panic again, “But it’s only a few hours a day then you get to come back here; just like we get to go back home, I promise. You know how happy Allison was when you started reading well? Think how proud she will be when you start learning even more. You want to make her proud of you right?”

“How about Stiles and I go with you,” Scott calls out.

“Allison…”

“Chris will stay with her, she won’t be alone,” Stiles says, “We’ll bring you right back after they finish… seeing how well you read and count. And Allison will be so proud of you when she wakes up.”

“When?” Jacob asks, the trembling in his voice revealing his fear.

“When will she wake up? Mom didn’t,” he says as he edges closer to Stiles.

“I know how that feels,” Stiles quietly replies, swallowing down the lump in his throat at the memory. The next thing he knows Jacob is clinging to him.

“I just want her to wake up,” he cries against Stiles’ shirt as he trembles against him, Scott coming up beside them and wrapping his arms around him too.

They stay like that until one of the security guards slowly opens the door to check on the situation. Stiles tells him to ask Chris to bring some clothing for Jacob so they can take him to the school.

“And bring me back,” Jacob reminds him.

“Absolutely.”

  


Their very lives may be at risk, their newly born Republic could be about to be quashed under the forces of the werewolf slave trading nations but, as the alarm sounded Stiles knew he had to get up, get his pack up, and go to school, at least it was the last day of term before the summer break.

They may be at war, with soldiers fighting for their freedom, they still had to continue on as normal; or as normal as they could. Later today they had to stop by the NMC Lab for a check-up, Deaton was still using it as his base of operations. So Derek had a check-up for the twins, he was really showing now at twenty-five weeks; Deaton was also going to be carrying out some tests on Jackson, Scott and Isaac to check up on their kibble levels.

At least there was a ceasefire currently in place while the secession talks continued; but how could they trust that the US was going to stick to it? They had set down the conditions for the referendum, and when the vote still didn’t go their way they attacked.

Derek is lying on his side using a body pillow, Stiles reaches over and rubs his swollen belly; both of them are grateful that the morning sickness ended.

Isaac whines at the disturbance of Stiles moving out of his tangle of limbs.

“Come on guys, time to get up anyway,” he encourages them, “At least after today the school’s out for summer.”

  


“Today we begin the journey to becoming one nation of many peoples. Our nation will be governed by one general philosophy; a philosophy that can best be summed up by paraphrasing the words of one other declaration…

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all peoples are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights; and that among these Rights are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Stiles sat back watching his mother address the assembled crowd and world media. The Alliance Republic is officially recognised. There is a strident timetable towards the secession from the Union, unpicking the defence, legal, fiscal and judicial systems. All to be complete in time for their Independence Day next year. And Stiles is stoked about that; May the fourth.

There is also the potential mass migration of people across the border. Those that are on the Union side and wish to migrate to the Alliance, and those that are within the Alliance and wish to migrate to the Union. The rules governing that is that you must have family living on the other side, and have a job waiting for you.

Also the Consensual Slavery bill has been enacted. Isaac and Scott are happy about that; when it was Isaac was grinning from ear to ear and kept calling him Master. Scott too had a shy smile and blush as he more quietly called him Master too; but Stiles caught his heartbeat and his scent and knew how happy he was. He’s going to go talk with Danny tomorrow. The way the law is enacted Danny’s enslavement is not straightforward or easy to gain.

The law states that:

The submissive must initiate the request for the dominant to take legal responsibility for the well-being of the submissive within the terms and limits of the contract. The dominant can decline at this stage.

Where there are agreed limits that will be adhered to by the dominant:

  * The dominant must not endanger the life and health of the submissive; they must not coerce the submissive to undertake an illegal activity.
  * The contract will be mediated by an independent counsellor assigned by the state.
  * The contract will be time-bound for a period of between twelve and sixty months.
  * There will be mandatory mediated reviews conducted by the assigned counsellor once every six month period of the contract; either the dominant or the submissive can request additional mediated reviews to be held.
  * At the end of the contracted period the parties can negotiate a new contract.
  * No money will be exchanged between the dominant and the submissive as part of the contract.



Where there are no agreed limits that will be adhered to by the dominant, and the submissive is transferring their power of attorney to the dominant:

  * The dominant must not endanger the life and health of the submissive; they must not coerce the submissive to undertake an illegal activity.
  * The contract will be mediated by an independent counsellor assigned by the state.
  * Both the dominant and the submissive will undergo a complete psychological assessment; if this assessment is not satisfactory the contract will not be granted.
  * On completion of a satisfactory assessment by the counsellor the contract must be reviewed and approved by the Alliance Senate Council.
  * The contract will be time-bound for a period of twelve months.
  * There will be mandatory mediated reviews conducted by the assigned counsellor once every three month period of the contract; a psychological assessment will form part of the review. If this assessment is not satisfactory the contract will be negated.
  * At the end of the contracted period the parties can negotiate a new contract.
  * No money will be exchanged between the dominant and the submissive as part of the contract.



Danny wants a no-limit total power exchange contract.

  


“Please sit down Agent McCall,” the man doesn’t even shake his hand. Rafe wonders if he’s has some phobia about germs, “I expect you are wondering why you were assigned to this department.”

“Yes…”

“Of course,” the man interrupts him, “As you are no doubt aware the current President has managed to lose a war and over a quarter of our military forces.”

“Yes, I saw the classified report, an implant that malfunctioned and actually turned the soldiers into werewolves.” He doesn’t ask the man what he means by ‘current President’.

“Exactly, most defected to the enemy they were supposed to be fighting, the others are now in training to be sold; and the use of the implants has been discontinued.”

He waits for the man to get to the point of why he is here.

“The company responsible for the implants is currently being investigated, and the personnel… questioned; however, we believe that one of the Senior Partners of the firm has defected to the Alliance and is responsible for the ‘malfunction’. Your ex-wife is working with the Alliance is she not?”

“Yes…”

“And she still believes that you are an Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, yes?”

“Yes…”

“Good. We have arranged a job for you as one of the sheriff’s deputies in Beacon Hills. You will find Caleb Newman and bring him back for interrogation.” The man dismisses him.

Rafe stands and walks out the office, closing the door on Mr Mordin of the WERES Advisory Council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-13 - Silverman
> 
> Derek is in the Alliance Centre looking for Stiles. He had an appointment here in the afternoon and Derek said he would meet him and they could drive to Deaton’s for another scan and check-up.
> 
> He looks into Claudia Stilinski’s office; Stiles isn’t there, nor is his mother, but Laura is.  
> “If you’re looking for Stiles he is still in his psychological assessment,” she says turning to look at him. Derek turns to leave.  
> “You’re going to have to talk to me at some point Der,” he hears her say from behind, “Cora says to say hello.”  
> “Cora?” Derek says turning to face her, “Cora’s free?”  
> “She’s in Canada, living near Slave Lake in Alberta, would you believe,” Laura smiles at the thought of their sister, “Which you would have known if you would talk to me.”  
> “You wouldn’t listen to me,” Derek growls at her.
> 
> “Oh come on,” she laughs at him, “Are you really going to be so childish?” she pauses and silence hangs between them before she continues softly, “I was worried Derek, I’m sorry I didn’t listen; but everything I knew told me you were in danger and I was trying to help. I wanted to protect you, and still saw you as part of my pack and wanted to make sure you were safe.”


	13. Silverman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> Thanks also to Victor for correcting the Google Translations I had used.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Derek is in the Alliance Centre looking for Stiles. He had an appointment scheduled here in the afternoon and Derek said he would meet him and they could drive to Deaton’s for another check-up.

He tries Claudia Stilinski’s office on a whim; Stiles isn’t there, nor is his mother. However, Laura is.

“If you’re looking for Stiles he is still in his psych assessment,” she says turning to look at him, “He shouldn’t be much longer.” Derek turns to leave.

“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point Der,” he hears her say from behind, “Cora says hello, if you were wondering.”

“Cora?” Derek says turning to face her, “Cora’s free?”

“She’s in Canada, living near Slave Lake in Alberta, would you believe,” Laura smiles at the thought of their sister, “ _Which you would have known if you would talk to me_.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me,” Derek growls at her.

“Oh come on,” she laughs at him, “Are you really going to be so childish?” she pauses and silence hangs between them before she continues softly, “I was worried Derek, I’m sorry I didn’t listen; but I had valid reasons to believe what I did. I mean you had spent how many years at the hands of that psycho bitch? Everything I knew told me you were in danger and I was trying to help. I wanted to protect you, and wanted to make sure you were safe. You may have a new pack, but you’re still family.”

“My alpha, my mate, was keeping me safe,” he rumbles.

“I know that now, but look at it from my point of view,” she says, “From what we had heard and knew of Stiles Stilinski you couldn’t possibly be safe; Deaton was using him without authorisation from the Council, plus he was the Argent’s and the WERES golden boy, the human able to own three werewolves, to control them, and to bring a delta into their heat. I mean we had reports that they had plans to have him head up a new delta breeding program. Knowing that you were in his clutches, how could I not worry and want to save you?”

“How is Cora?” Derek asks what he has wanted to ask since Laura mentioned Cora’s name; only partially doing so now to avoid admitting that maybe he can see her point, “How did you two escape? Did anyone else get away?” 

"No-one else escaped with us that night,” Laura’s tone is hushed as she replies, “I doubt you remember, Argent was keeping you separate from the rest of us; mom was taken away on her own; our human aunts, uncles and cousins were rounded up into a van. The rest of us were put into cages, there were two cages per van. Cora and I were loaded into the same van.”

“I don’t know when they took you away, our van was the last to leave the preserve, we heard the driver radio in about engine trouble. Once he got it going there was a hunter in the back with us and other sitting up front with the driver. He was speeding to make up lost time, trying to catch up to the others. Next thing we knew the van hit something and was overturning and rolling down the side of the hill. The hunter in the back of the van was dead, his neck snapped when the van overturned. I was able to reach out and get the keys to the cages. We got out of the van, Cora was terrified, we could see the dead eyes of the other hunter; he must have hit his head against the windscreen. The driver was tangled up with a deer; he must have hit it, gone through the windscreen and impaled himself on the stag’s antlers.”

“We ran, and headed to Deaton’s clinic. He helped hide us and arranged for us to get to Canada. During the trip to the border we came across Malia one night, she was in full coyote form. The alpha with us managed to get her to change back, and we took her with us to Canada. She and Cora became friends, often running in the woods around the lake.”

“No-one else escaped?” Derek asks, his voice small and full of fear for the answer.

“No,” her arms wrap around him as he cries into her shoulder, “It isn’t your fault Der, it was all down to Argent; you are not responsible for what happened.”

“I trusted her, I thought I loved her and that she loved me; without me she…”

“ ** _She already had the information she needed_** ,” Laura’s words shock him, ending the tears he was crying, “She was only using you to verify some of them; she wouldn’t have bothered to target you if she didn’t already have everything she needed.”

“I did some digging once I worked out you had been involved with her. It took a while, but turns out you weren’t the only young werewolf she used like that; it was her favourite method of operating. She got the details she needed, then would find a young member of the family and befriend them to verify or correct some of the details. You are not to blame. Only that bitch is. It’s **all** her fault; you hear me?”

“Okay,” Derek smiles at her. She believed everything she said was true. He listened to her heart.

  


She was admitted to the Kaweah Delta Medical Centre, in Visalia, under the name ‘ ** _Ms Carina Silverman_** ’. The town had been hit hard with the outbreak of the aconite hyper-allergenic immunodeficiency syndrome (AHAIS). The gas cloud, blown in by the winds, from less than fifty miles to the south where the kibble factory in Delano had been bombed.

She looked frail, fragile even; as if her bones would snap at the slightest exertion. Her cheeks hollow, her eyes sunken, and her hair hanging in straggling disarray. Her skin exhibiting a greyish tinge as it sits loosely on her frame.

She looks pathetically weak and unremarkable lying on the bed, but Deaton would recognise her anywhere; and he believes he has found the perfect person to test the new version of the serum on.

“Hello Kate,” he says as he sits by her bed.

“Well if it isn’t the veterinarian,” she wheezes, “If you’ve come to take me back to your furry masters I think you might be too late.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Just going to watch me fade away,” her breathing is laboured and her speech broken and faltered.

“No, I’m going to offer you a chance at survival. It may not work, you’d be our first human trial of the vaccine. Until now we’ve formulated it for specifically for each person; we now believe we have a generic vaccine that we can mass produce.”

“ ** _You_** are offering **_me_** a cure?”

“ ** _No_** ,” he coldly states, “I’m offering to test a potential cure on you before I give it to anyone else.”

“And what happens to me if it works?”

“That will be up to the authorities. It may not work, it may have side effects we are not aware of; it may even be too late for you already.”

“I’ll take it on one condition,” Deaton waits on her stating the condition, “I go across the border to the Union if I’m cured.”

He rises from the seat.

“I’ll talk to the council; and I’ll let your brother know where you are.”

“I don’t want him to come here.”

“The cure may not work Kate, and no-one deserves to die alone.”

“Not even someone like me doc?” she mocks his sentimentality; she knows what he thinks of her.

“Not even you,” he replies as he turns and walks away.

  


Danny was shaking. He could feel his palms sweating, and his heart beating at like a million miles an hour.

The first part of this assessment hadn’t been anything like he expected. 

A list of questions on a tablet that he had seconds to select an answer for. He’s sure he’s fucked this up already, he didn’t have time to think of his answers and went on instinct. And some of the questions were… unexpected…

‘ _Someone orders you to fetch them a drink from the kitchen; do you…_ ’

He picked the answer ‘ _Ask them if their legs are broken_ ’ before he thought about it. Now he wishes to he’d had more time, picked an even more appropriate answer; because when they are assessing his submissiveness, _how are they going to sign off on him being Stiles’ slave when he gives answers like that?_

“Mr Māhealani,” the woman calling his name pulls his attention from his thoughts, he looks up and across to her, “Dr Crane is ready for you now.”

He stands and follows her into the office. He’s shown to large comfortable seat, looking around the room he sees the nameplate on the desk, ‘Dr Jonathan Crane’. The doctor smiles at him as he takes the seat opposite.

“Would you prefer that I call you Mr Māhealani, or may I call you Daniel?”

“Danny’s fine.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, “So, Danny, you’ve requested to be enslaved by Mr Stilinski…”

“Yes.” Danny can feel his leg tremble slightly.

“And as you know the purpose of these assessments are that we need to ensure that you are not being coerced, and that it will not be detrimental to your well-being to allow you to do so.”

“Ye…Yes.” Danny stammer, his hands sweating.

“There’s no need to be nervous Danny, we’re here to work out what is best for you,” Dr Crane says, “Are you being forced to…”

“ ** _NO!_** ” he shouts before the doctor has finished asking the question, “ _I asked Stiles_ ; he said the only way he would was if his pack all agreed to him doing it, and if the Council allowed it in the constitution. He's only doing this because I want this I need this.”

“So, tell me why you want this so much.”

There is so much that Danny knows he could say in answer to that, and so much he daren’t voice… _because he feels the need for contrition, because he can’t forgive himself for his own actions, because he feels so out of control and lost and needs someone to care enough to bring him back from the edge, because he needs someone to take that control and show him what it really means to not have it, because he needs to understand what he did to Jackson…_

“I need to make things right, to understand… I need to… I believed what WERES taught us, I believed that werewolves were animals, that if someone was bitten by an alpha and became a werewolf the human being died and that an animal took up residence in their skin and walked around it. Jackson was my best friend, and when was taken away… I thought… I thought he had been bitten, I thought I had lost my best friend and… the way I treated him when I bought him. In here,” he lifts his hand and jabs his index finger against his temple, “In here I know what I did, I know how wrong I was, but I don’t really understand, I don’t know if was so despicable that he can never ever forgive me, but I need to try; I don’t even know if I can ever forgive myself. I need to understand.”

They talk for an hour, going over the same points. Danny rages at the man and he sits there in his chair calmly talking to him; until a bell sounds.

“Our time is up,” he says calmly and Danny feels more lost than when he came into the room, “Danny, for the moment I am going to recommend that we have further sessions to work through some if the issues you’ve raised today, and that once we have addressed these we consider if you still wish to proceed with being enslaved by Mr Stilinski…”

“ ** _No, I need_** …”

“Danny, I’m not saying that we won’t allow you to pursue your desired path in life, only that we need to work through some of the reasons why you are seeking to be enslaved first. Once these have been addressed, and if you still wish to proceed then we your request. I’ll schedule another appointment for the same time next week, is that suitable for you?”

Danny nods his head; all his hopes seem dashed.

“I promise this is not the end, we are only working towards what is best for you.”

  


Rafe MCall was going to have to be careful. He didn’t know who within the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department was loyal to the Union and who supported the Alliance. 

He walked into the sheriff’s office, Stilinski was sitting behind his desk reading over the file in his hand; Rafe assumed it was the HR report on him, complete with is transfer papers. He sits on the chair across from the sheriff; Stilinski briefly looks across at him before returning to the file.

“So, why are you here deputy?” Stilinski asks as he looks over the top of the file at him.

“Because this is where I need to be,” he answers with an earnest determination, “This is where my ex-wife and Scott are.” He needs to be careful with his answers, but he has years of practice.

“Really? You need to be here where Melissa, who threw you out, and Scott, the son you knocked down the stairs in anger while you were blind drunk, breaking his jaw…”

“It was an accident, I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol since…”

“And you chose now to move from New York back to California, and take a pay cut of a third of your yearly salary to be back in the town where Melissa and your son are?” He can see the insightful look the sheriff gives him, and Rafe knows the man is no fool.

“Your son the werewolf? Rafe I remember you and Melissa, before you left, don't forget that. I also remember you sleeping in a motel for a week before you could convince Melissa to let you in the house after an argument that left her with bruises. An argument because you wanted to buy a slave-pet; a young sixteen year old female as I recall, ‘ _to help around the house_ ’. What changed?"

“I need to try and reconnect with Melissa and Scott, is that so wrong?”

They spend the next hour completing his paperwork and going over his schedule for the next couple of weeks. He was able to avoid lying, to keep referring to Scott by name; he has to ensure he doesn’t slip up in front of any werewolves. They would hear the lie if he called Scott his son. His son died the day he was bitten and became the animal that now inhabits his body.

  


Lydia is sitting in the hallway of the Alliance Centre, her foot tapping against the wooden floor in annoyance as she waits for Danny to finish his psych evaluation. It’s not Danny or the waiting that is causing her annoyance. It’s the werewolf scowling at her from the other side of the hall. She glances at him over the top of the magazine she is reading; his scowling has caused her to read the same paragraph of the _New Scientist_ article on ‘ _How clean is green energy?_ ’ three times now. She’d had enough.

“You know you should take a picture it will last longer,” she snaps at him. He sits on the bench opposite her and does nothing more than quirk an eyebrow at her. “Seriously, you have nothing better to do than sit there watching me read while I wait for my friend?”

« Cette merde d'humain a toujours des amis? »  Lydia can’t quite believe her ears. 

«  ** _Vous_** , » she doesn’t manage to hide her disbelief, «  _parlez français?_  ».  She is not sure if he thought she wouldn’t understand what he was saying or not; but French is only one of several languages she is fluent in.  From the widening of his eyes she would guess that he thought she wouldn’t understand him.

« De toute évidence, dans certaine régions du Canada cela aide de comprendre le français. »

«  Tu résidais au Québec, » she arches her eyebrow as she replies, «  toujours est-il que je ne pensais pas que tu apprendrais la langue local… »

« Quoi ?! Tu pense que parce que je suis un loup-garou je ne le ferais pas… »

«  Non, j'attendrais complétement d'Ethan d'apprendre le langage local, il est plus sociable… »

“ _What is that supposed to mean?_ ” he roars at her as his anger causes him to return to English, the rage written across his face as he moves to stand in front of her, “ _I get along with all of my friends…_ ”

“ _Oh, I’ve no doubt you get along with people if they are just like you_ , **_but_** , _Ethan makes an effort not to prejudge someone, he has always been perfectly civil to me, to Boyd, to everyone_ ,” she seethes up at him, her own voice rising in volume to match his, “ _You, so clearly look down on anyone who isn’t a werewolf_ ,” she stands to face him, “ _You can’t keep the scowl or heated look crossing your face whenever you see Boyd and Erica sitting together, or when you look at me or Danny_. **_You, Aiden, are a hypocritical racist!_** ”

The blue has leaked into his eyes, and she can see fangs starting to come through.

“Lydia, Aiden,” she turns to the sound of her name and sees a worried looking Jackson standing with Ethan beside him.

“Aiden, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ethan practically hisses at his brother.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she airily says, “Aiden is just being Aiden. So, Jackson, I didn’t know you were here…”

“Yeah, Ethan and I came for some lunch; so what brings you down here?” Jackson smiles at her, the smile fading when they hear…

“She came with me,” she sees Jackson close off at the sound of Danny’s voice.

“I forgot you’d be here,” Jackson barely keeps the snarl from his voice.

“We should go,” she says to Danny.

“Yeah, no reason to stay,” she hears the dejection in Danny’s voice.

“Not sticking around to see your master, I know my alpha is here, visiting his mom,” Jackson sneers.

“He’s not my master,” Danny replies, and Lydia can see the tears form at the corner of his eyes, “The psychologist didn’t approve… he said… it doesn’t matter. Come on Lydia, I want to get out of here.” He quickly turns and heads to the doors; Lydia striding after him.

“Pity, I was really looking forward to my alpha leading you around the town on leash, in nothing but a diaper and some ribbons in your hair,” they ignore Jackson’s angry shouts as the door closes behind them and the tears stream down Danny’s cheeks. Once they are safely inside her car she pulls him into an embrace and doesn’t let go until both their tears have stopped.

  


“What are you doing here,” she croaks from the bed as Chris looks down at his sister.

“Deaton told me where you were,” he barely says, “That he’d asked you to be one of the test subjects for the cure he’s been working on.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, and he can only just make out what she is saying, “How’s my niece doing?” He slumps into the seat at the side of the bed at her question.

“There’s no change, she is still in a coma,” he answers, trying to keep the defeat he feels out of his voice, “Nothing they have tried has worked so far.”

“She’s a fighter, and she’s an Argent, we’re tough women; you know she’ll pull through,” Kate says with a weak smile.

“Will you?” he asks, “The council agreed to your condition, you’ll be migrated to the Union if the cure works. Are you going take the vaccine?”

“What have I got to lose?” her answer given with a laugh that turns into another fit of coughing.

  


“We’ve checked this as well as we can Alan,” Marin tone telling him that she is as exhausted and stressed as he is.

“I know that, but we both know the source for the artificially grown stem cell process came from Newman. After his kidnapping of Stiles we can’t take any chances,” he knows his own tone is as sharp as his sisters. They have both been double and triple checking the results.

“We revised his process, we removed every possible way for the grown stem cells to mutate the human cells to werewolf ones,” her reply doesn’t comfort him as much as it should.

“Every one that we found,” he counters.

“What more can we do, the lab results show that it works, and no side effects showed on the tissue samples. The next step to take is live trials. You know that.”

“I know, but if the situation was not this desperate, we wouldn’t be rushing this fast to live trials.”

“We are testing the vaccine on four werewolves and four humans, to free and save hundreds of millions of lives. Is that really such bad odds on balance?”

“Only time will tell.”

  


“Is Stiles in?” Lydia asked as the door was finally opened, quickly followed by, “What the hell are you wearing?” as she took in the sight of a near naked Scott in a pair of sheer pants that clearly show Scott’s growing arousal beneath them.

“My… my lounge pants,” he stammers in reply, moving to cover himself half behind the door, “Stiles is in the lounge we were about to watch a movie.”

Lydia walks past him into the lounge were she finds Isaac lying on one couch wearing pretty much the same outfit as Scott, his feet resting in Jackson’s lap, Derek is lying across the other couch, his head in Stiles’ lap. Stiles, Derek and Jackson are at least dressed normally.

“Lydia, we’re about to watch Iron Man 3, care to join us?” Stiles asks.

“No, can we have a chat?” she stares down at him.

“Sure.”

“In private.”

Derek lifts his head from Stiles’ lap and Stiles leads her to the dining room, turning to the others he tells them, “No using wolf-y powers to do any eavesdropping; that goes for all of you.”

He closes the door behind them and signals her to take a seat.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” he asks as he sits in the chair next to her.

“Danny…”

“How is he doing? I heard what happened at the Centre, and that the psychologist didn’t approve his enslavement.”

“He’s a mess, I left him asleep on his bed; he cried himself to sleep hugging a shirt that Jackson left there.”

“You think we should let Dr Crane know?”

“I think you should stop this whole enslavement nonsense, it’s the worry of that causing him this anxiety!” she didn’t intend to raise her voice, she had planned to talk calmly.

“I didn’t start this ‘nonsense’; Danny made the request and I accepted. And don’t you think it will be better for Danny to continue talking with Dr Crane and sorting out the issues he has rather than for me to reject him?”

“I don’t understand why he would…”

“That is between Danny and the psychologist, and if at the end of the assessment he no-longer wants to be enslaved that’s fine, but if he does I’ll still accept him. He’s my pack and he needs help and I will make sure he gets all the help he needs.”

Lydia studies him closely.

“Did you have something to do with psychologist’s decision?”

“How could I have affected his decision? And do you think Danny is in a place right now to be deciding he wants to be enslaved?”

“No he isn’t…”

“And if you and I can see that, then a trained psychologist is also going to see that and do what is best for his patient; which, during the assessment is both Danny and myself. Now, I have a movie night with my pack to get back to; if you’re not staying check in on Danny for me?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

  


Jackson gave up trying to ignore what was happening in his alpha’s bedroom by hiding out in his own room… _his own room_ , it’s something that makes him smile whenever he thinks about it, _he has his own room_ ; even through his headphones could cover the sounds they were making, the smells still permeated across the hall to him.

So he left his room and headed down to the living room, the scent of the flowers that Mrs Stilinski had filled the room with should block out the worst of it, and sports game on the TV should distract him from anything else.

He couldn’t run to the stairs quick enough, catching the sound of _SMACK, SMACK, SMACK_ as Stiles’ hand landed on, what he assumes was, the bare flesh of Scott’s ass and Scott gasps pleadingly, ‘ _please, Stiles, Sir, yes please, ngh, yes_ ’. 

He’s watching a college basketball game on ESPN, and wondering why they don’t cover lacrosse, when there is loud knocking at the door. Answering he opens to find a man standing there in a deputies uniform.

“I’m Agent… sorry, old habits, I’m Deputy McCall, I’m here to see Scott if he’s in,” the man says. Jackson can see the badge on the guy’s shirt, and he remembers hearing that Scott’s dad had applied to relocate from the Union.

“Your Scott’s dad?” he asks, “You got ID?”

“I was Scott’s dad,” the man says holding out his photo ID.

“Just a minute,” he says before he closes the door and heads to the stairs. He’s not about to let someone he doesn’t know into the pack’s house.

He runs up the stairs and opens the bedroom door in time to see Scott thrusting forward into Stiles tight grip, his reddened ass clenching as he comes over Isaac’s chest.

“Scott’s dad is waiting outside to see him,” he announces; instantly killing the mood in the room.

  


It had been twenty-four hours since she had been given the vaccine, but already Kate could feel the difference in her body. Breathing was so much easier, and she didn’t feel so tired. The general pain throughout her muscles was easing.

“Kate,” Deaton said to her, “How are you feeling?”

“You tell me Doc?” her voice didn’t have the raspy sound, and her throat didn’t hurt so much when she talked.

“I consider the fact that you're not dead to be a very good sign. You’re also sounding a little better, and the initial test results are looking good, so far; but we still have a long way to go to be certain. As we said, some of the initial tests of the specifically genetically targeted vaccines gave these kinds of results, only to relapse later.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” she left the ‘ _for now_ ’ unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Translations
> 
> « Cette merde d'humain a toujours des amis? » (piece of human shit doesn't exist in French, tricky one :D)  
> "That piece of human shit still has friends?"
> 
> « Vous, parlez français? ».  
> "You speak French?"
> 
> « De toute évidence dans certaine régions du canada cela aide de comprendre le français. »  
> "Clearly; in some areas of Canada it helps to understand French." 
> 
> « Tu résidais au Québec, toujours est-il que je ne pensais pas que tu apprendrais la langue local... »  
> "So, you lived in Quebec; still I didn't think you would learn the local language..."
> 
> « Quoi ?! Tu pense que parce que je suis un loup-garou je ne le ferais pas… »  
> "What! You think because I'm a werewolf that I wouldn't..."
> 
> « Non, j'attendrais complétement d'Ethan d'apprendre le langage local, il est plus sociable… »  
> "No, I would totally expect Ethan to learn the local language, he's more of a people person..."
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-14 -- Strike Force (Part-1)
> 
> Derek sinks back into the warmth, the gentle scent of the bath salts and the silky feel of the water enveloping him.
> 
> Stiles had dragged him into the shower first to reapply the depilatory cream as the bath was being run. While he waited for the time to wash the cream off, Stiles applied the hair remover to Isaac and then Scott. Then it was time for Derek to get back under the showerhead as Stiles’ glove covered hands sluiced the cream and Derek’s body hair away.
> 
> Now he is lying back and watching his mate through half-lidded eyes as Stiles ensures that Isaac and Scott are also smooth from the neck down. As Stiles’ hand caresses down Isaac’s back, Derek’s own hand glides over his stomach to his achingly hard cock; Stiles fingers disappear between Isaac’s ass cheeks and Derek grips himself tighter.  
> “Na-ah, no touching yourself Der,” Stiles admonishes him a flash of red in his eyes, “That’s for me to play with when I’ve finished with these two.”  
> Derek lets go of his cock, whining in frustration and need.


	14. Strike Force (Part-1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Stiles wasn’t really paying attention to what Deaton was saying; he had too many other things on his mind. To say that things have been hectic over the last few weeks would be an understatement.

For a start the house just isn’t big enough for them anymore. Not to mention that he’s going to need to move the cage out of the room so that they can have the bed back on the floor; he should have done that ages ago, because no matter how much Derek says that the bed being five feet off the floor isn’t a problem for him in his condition… **_it is_**. And when the babies are born they are going to need somewhere to put the cots, the changing table, the… yeah, the house isn’t big enough.

The sessions with Doctor Crane have been going well; at least for him, the doctor won’t discuss Danny’s sessions; only what they talk about at their joint sessions, and Danny seems okay with how those are going. And if the doc gives the okay for the contract Stiles isn’t sure where he’s gonna put the cage for Danny; _because the bed is going back on the floor_. Actually they could do with a bigger bed, while they are moving things around. Even though Danny won’t be sleeping in it, with the rest of them and the body pillow for Derek there is very little room for any of them to sleep comfortably.

But the biggest reason his concentration is shot and his brain is leaping around all the problems facing the pack can be summed up in two words; Rafe McCall.

When Jackson had come into the room when he was spanking Scott and Isaac he knew something was wrong, and he was right; that was when the newly appointed **Deputy** McCall first showed up at their house.

Scott wasn’t keen to meet with him, so the meeting was short and anything but sweet. His little Scotty had pulled a pair of sheer pants on that did nothing to hide his red spanked ass or the come still clinging to the tip of his cock and marched down the stairs and opened the front door to close it in his face.

But the man has been nothing if not persistent. Every day sending messages, either through Stiles’ dad or mom, or through Melissa that he wants to try and reconnect with his son. And Scott has asked him if he thinks he should give him a chance. But every instinct Stiles has is screaming at him not to trust the man. But when Scott looks at him with those big brown puppy eyes, and he can clearly see the desperate hope in them, he can’t say **_no_**.

What he has said is that he can’t say that he should; that he should be careful, and if Scott does decided to meet with the man under no circumstance is he to discuss the pack with him, or that he is becoming more wolf by the day; actually that is general rule for everyone, and not just with Rafe McCall. Deaton isn’t sure how far the changes in his DNA are going to go, which is why he really should be paying attention to what he’s saying now…

“… effectively in another month the WERES test is not going to classify you as human if the rate of change does not stop, or at least slow down.”

“And the problem is?” Stiles asks, because after all this is the Alliance, the results of a WERES species test is irrelevant.

“We don’t know where the changes are going to stop,” Morrell says from beside her brother, “Will the stop when you are fully werewolf? When they stop will you be partially transformed and unable to shift back to look human? Or, given that some of the DNA used by NMC came from werewolves that were able to fully shift into the form of a wolf…”

“ ** _I could become a fucking wolf?!_** ” 

“We don’t know,” Deaton states too calmly, “We are still trying to recover the data from the experiments that created the serum had been used on Deucalion before he bit your mother; but the super soldier project was shut down shortly after you were born, and we don’t have access to all the files. I’m sorry.”

Stiles is too. But it’s just one more thing for him to worry about.

  
  


Mordin had reviewed the plans that President Palin had submitted; targeted strikes against selected priority targets to seed the chaos they needed; secure those cities, and then swarm attacks to destabilise the Alliance’s hold on the surrounding area. The alliance had some real military among their rabble, but most were civilian wannabes; he could only hope that the defections caused by Caleb’s foolishness wouldn’t strengthen those animals in any significant way. Despite this passable plan, and its implementation, over the past weeks, the women was becoming a severe liability, and if this failed she would have to be replaced.

She had known when they made her president that there were serious issues that needed to be dealt with.

The breeding program had not been the success that the hunter families had hoped for. The number of births was lower than expected, and the cost of raising the cubs until they could be sold was cutting into the companies’ profits. It was one of the reasons that WERES Advisory Committee had pushed for the law to be changed to lower the age the slave-pets could be sold at to fourteen. The farce of being seen to go through the proper process of enacting the change in the law was time consuming; no proposal from WERES was ever rejected.

Which is why when sources within Canada had informed them of the Alliance plans for an invasion of Alaska and the west coast states they had been able to have the military to allow the werewolves to take them.

And when the agitators in California had managed to leak the KWE report about the effects of the kibble it gave them what had seemed a golden opportunity. They had members of their own security team blow up the factories; allowing them to blame werewolf rights activists for the destruction, the loss of jobs and lives. The resultant gas clouds affecting werewolves living wild was a boon adding to the public’s fear. When humans started to be affected it gave them a propaganda coup. Until it also weakened the military.

The NMC implant seemed to be the solution to all of that; until Caleb Newman hid the fact that the test subject had shifted, and they lost twenty percent of their armed forces. The training facilities are a little stretched at the moment as a result, and releasing that batch of slave-pets onto the open market will need to be managed to ensure that the prices don’t dip and further affect profits.

When implementing Palin’s plan to rectify her mistakes, kowtowing to the UN as much as she did, they will need to ensure that they safely secure the Stilinski boy. He clearly is the success that NMC were seeking with the aborted super-soldier project. And he shows a great deal of potential, having just convinced the recently emancipated werewolves to enact an enslavement bill. He could help enact a similar one within the reunified Union; one where the ‘ _consensually enslaved_ ’ humans helped improved the profits of WERES companies.

  
  


Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening with his parents. He knew is mom was technically living with them, but when she was here she was using the guest room; and she wasn’t here that often. They had turned his dad’s old study into Jackson’s room because his mom was using the guest room. If he had known she would hardly be here he would have made sure Jackson got that room.

His parents seemed to be getting along, but didn’t seem to be together. However, the only reason he was thinking about his parents right now was that it occurred to him that neither of them were here. His dad was already at work, and his mom was… wherever she was.

And Jackson had **_stayed_** at Ethan’s, _for the first time_ , last night, at least he called to tell him he wasn’t going to be home; and Stiles felt good when his exact words were _“I won’t be_ ** _home_** _tonight_ _, I’m gonna stay at Ethan’s”_. Of course sleeping at Ethan’s was a mistake, he’s sure that is going to lead to someone getting hurt; and they can both say they are only friends with benefits all they like he knows they are lying, or at least one of them is and they both know it. Hearing Jackson call his place **_home_** though, that made everything worth it.Stiles can’t help but feel good about the fact this is his home. 

But right now, he, Derek, Scott and Isaac have the house all to themselves.

He turns towards his mate, his hand sliding over Derek’s belly.

“Oh. My. God.” He loudly exclaims as he jolts upright, waking his three bed mates.

“What? What happened?” Scott’s panicked shout comes from behind Isaac.

“I felt the babies move,” he replies with a glee filled smile across his face, he turns and beams at Isaac and Scott, his hand hasn’t left Derek’s stomach and as he feels the movement under his hand again he turns to him with his smile still plastered to his face, “Oh my god!”

“I’m glad you’re so happy about the bag of snakes let loose in my stomach keeping me awake and making me feel like I have a bad case of gas,” Derek grumps at him.

“Aww, Sourwolf,” Stiles leans down and takes Derek’s lips in a kiss. His mate eagerly returns the kiss despite his grumpiness.

“I’d like to see you be your regular ray of sunshine self when you feel bloated, tired, have two little bags of snakes squirming around inside you and none of your clothes fit!” Derek complains between kisses.

“We did get you those shirt and pants from…” Stiles stops talking at Derek’s growl, leaving the ‘Destination XL’ left unsaid, sitting up he stares at him with his eye brow cocked, “Hey, until they start making paternity wear where else are we going to get clothes to fit you just now.”

“Like I need reminding that I’m getting fat,” his mate grumbles, pulling away from him.

“Der,” Stiles tugs at his arms, pulling him into a hug, Scott and Isaac making it a group hug.

“You’re not fat,” they say in unison, “You’re radiant.”

"How about,” Stiles hums into Derek’s ear, “I run you a nice relaxing bath to soak in while I take care of these two in the shower, and then I’ll come and scrub your back,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“With the pregnancy bath salts?” Derek huffs.

“Absolutely.”

  
  


Derek sinks back into the warmth of the water, the gentle scent of the bath salts and the silky feel they create in the water enveloping him.

Stiles had dragged him into the shower first to reapply the depilatory cream while the bath was filling up. While he waited for the time to wash the cream off, Stiles applied the hair remover to Isaac and then Scott. Then it was time for Derek to get back under the showerhead as Stiles’ glove covered hands rinsed him clean.

Now he is lying back and watching his mate through half-lidded eyes as Stiles ensures that Isaac and Scott are also smooth from the neck down. As Stiles’ hand caresses down Isaac’s back, Derek’s own hand glides over his stomach to his achingly hard cock; Stiles fingers disappear between Isaac’s ass cheeks and Derek grips himself tighter.

“Na-ah, no touching yourself Der,” Stiles admonishes him a flash of red in his eyes, “That cock belongs to _me_ ; and I plan to play with it when I’m finished with these two.”

Derek lets go of his cock, whining in frustration and need.

He grips the sides of the bath tub as he watches Stiles drag his human nails over Isaac’s chest, catching his nipples and filling the room with the scent of Isaac’s arousal as his head lolls back on Stiles’ shoulder causing Scott and Derek to whine their need; Isaac’s hardness bobbing in the air in front of Scott. Scott reaches to take his own cock in hand…

“No Scotty, hands behind your head,” Stiles commands him, and Scott complies with pouty whine, “Now, drop to your knees and take your mate in your mouth.”

Scott falls to his knees and takes Isaac’s cock deep into his throat as Isaac writhes under Stiles’ fingers teasing his nipples as he nips and pulls and twists the tender nubs; Isaac bucking his hips forward and pushing himself further into Scott’s throat as he moans his mantra, “ _Master, Master,_ ** _please_ , Master**.”

“Come Isaac,” Stiles whispered in his ear as he twisted viciously on the now sensitive nubs, red and bruised from their play. Isaac bucks up violently into Scott’s mouth as he howls his release. Derek has to grab the edge of the bath tub more firmly to stop himself from disobeying. He sees Scott lurch off Isaac’s cock as he gags, coughing and spluttering. Isaac’s seed continuing to shoot out over Scott’s hair and cheeks, coating his nose and lips.

Isaac hangs limply in Stiles’ arms, nuzzling along his collarbone; Scott still kneeling looking up pleadingly.

“Do you think Scotty deserves to be allowed to come after he didn’t swallow your load Isaac?” Stiles teasingly asks. 

“Please, please Stiles, Sir, I didn’t mean to, he thrust so hard that last time, I didn’t… please?” Scott pleads, not realising Stiles is teasing him.

“I’m going to let you come Scotty,” Scott’s hands immediately fly from the back of his neck to his cock, “ _NO_!” Stiles admonishes him, “Hands back where they were. You’re not going to touch your cock.”

Stiles fetches one of the toys from the their toy chest; it has a lengthy textured nine inch shaft, with a bulging rounded head and pronounced veins, the five inch girth flaring to six inches at the base the sports a suction cup.

Stiles fixes the dildo to the tiled floor of the shower. His fingers delve into Isaac’s ass scooping up some of his still leaking slick. He walks behind Scott and kneels beside him; his slicked fingers breaching into him. Scott gasps at the intrusion as his cock bobs, the head flaring as his pre-come leaks, a long strand clinging to the head as it glides down to the floor. Stiles fingers soon have Scott panting and open.

“Now, fuck yourself on the dildo until you come,” Stiles voice is husky with his own rising need, “But remember, no touching.” Derek can’t hold back the whine the follows Scott’s as he watches Scott impale himself on the head of the toy, his head thrown back as his fingers tighten in their grip together at the back of his neck.

Scott raises himself up and falls back down on the rubber cock, over and over as it rubs at his inner spot, lubed only with this mate’s slick. Stiles coats the silicone in more of Isaac’s slick every few minutes. Scott’s cock is leaking copiously as he seeks that elusive tipping point.

“Do you need some help Scotty?” Stiles asks as he stares down on him, “Do you want me to help you come?”

“Please, please Sir, please I need…”

Scott’s words stop as he feels the first splashes hit his cheek, the smell filling his nose and the amber coloured water falls into his mouth. Scott comes with a roar as he sinks onto the length of the rubber and comes as Stiles’ piss washes over his face, neck and chest.

Stiles pulls Isaac back into the shower beside Scott and himself, and turns the water back on to wash the detritus from their play. When they are clean again he wraps them in towels.

“I’ll be back to take care of you in a shortly,” he says to Derek with a chaste kiss to his lips, “Be good.” And he is ushering the other two from the bathroom.

As Derek is lying there, fighting the need to take himself in hand, willing himself to be a good obedient delta and obey his mate he focuses on the conversation he can hear from their bedroom.

“Okay boys, this is your choice,” Stiles informs Scott and Isaac, “Either I lock you back in the chainmail pouches that you had before, or I lock you in this stainless steel pod cage; which do you want?”

“Master,” Isaac’s voice quivers slightly, but Derek can pick up the desire curling at the edges, “When will you let us out of them again?”

“When I decide to, both of you chose to give me control of when you’re allowed to come,” Stiles gleefully reminds them.

“That one,” Scott says.

“You sure?” Stiles asks him; Derek assumes Scott nodded in reply as next he hears Stiles ask, “Do you want the same?” He doesn’t hear any further talking, and he wonders what they have chosen.

As he lies there in the still warm bath he wonder if Stiles plans the same for him, he whimpers at the thought as he hears the door open and Stiles footsteps heading back to the bathroom; the thought isn’t entirely unwelcome.

“So,” Stiles voice whispers in his ear as his hand caresses his still hard shaft, “Ready for me to take care of you?”

“Please Stiles,” he begs, “I need to come, watching you play…” Derek gasps as Stiles hand tightens around his cock and his teeth scrape over his nipple, “Please.”

Stiles hand glides up and down his shaft as his teeth, tongue and lips tease and play with his nipples; his tongue lapping along his chest as he switches from one to the other, before teeth nip and worry at his reddening buds.

“Are you…” he gasps out as Stiles plays with his body, “Are you going to lock my cock up like… like Scott and Isaac?”

“Do you want that Der?” Stiles asks him as his hand polishes over the sensitive head of his cock, causing him to buck his hips, the water splashing over the side of the bath; Stiles leans over and bites down on his nipple making him gasp, pushing him closer to the edge and he needs release he needs to come.

“Please, Stiles, please, I need,” and Derek isn’t sure if he is answering Stiles’ question or begging to be allowed to come.

“Come for me Der.”

And he does, the white hot seed striping over his pregnant belly. Stiles hands leave him and he looks up to see Stiles fisting his own hard shaft, and then his face, neck and chest are being coated in Stiles’ release.

Derek leans back against his mate under the spray from the shower head.

“Were you asking me to lock up your cock, or just to be allowed to come?” Stiles asks him. Derek thinks about it as he turns his head and nuzzles against Stiles’ cheek.

“I’ll let you decide,” he answers. Stiles reaches over and turns off the shower.

“I’ll only keep Scott and Isaac in a chastity cage,” Stiles replies with a kiss to his cheek, “For now. Let’s get dried and dressed.” And as he leads him by the hand back to the bedroom, Derek isn’t sure if he feels regret or relief that Stiles won’t be keeping him in chastity.

  
  


Jacob hates coming to this place. And Stiles has told him he will have to come here every day, even though Scott said it’s not every day. So far he’s been here four days in a row. Four days when he’s been away from Allison.

The first day they were to write about what they would be doing if they weren’t at class. So he wrote about how he’d be sitting on the chair at the side of his mistress’s bed reading to her and hoping she would wake up. The man in charge of them told him that he wasn’t right, saying that Allison wasn’t his mistress anymore.

That made him really angry; he even lost control and partially shifted, roaring at the man that Allison would always be his mistress and he shouldn’t lie to him because lying is bad. But instead of the man getting in trouble for lying, he got in trouble for shouting at him. He tried to leave to go back to Allison, but they wouldn’t let him. And another wolf held him down and they made him go to sleep.

When he woke up Stiles was there with him. He told Stiles what the man said, and what happened afterwards, and Stiles said the man was wrong. He said the man should have explained that he had a choice now and that if he wanted Allison to still be his mistress she could be. So he told Stiles how of course he did, he would always want her to be his mistress.

Stiles said something about how he should try to get him moved up the list for the cure. But he didn’t understand what he was talking about; he’s not sick.

He doesn’t ask the man that listens to them read the books about words he doesn’t understand. He waits until he is back in the room with Allison and asks Chris, or Mrs McCall when she comes to check on Allison. He doesn’t like the man.

  
  


“So, Danny, even with my decision today this is not the last session we will have; nor is it a definitive decision,” Doctor Crane is saying.

“I know that Doc,” he’s well aware that even though after the past eight sessions the Doc has now agreed to authorise his enslavement by Stiles, the Council can still veto, “But thanks, just thank you so much. This means so much to me, a chance to finally start to get some control…”

He can’t stop the bubble of laughter that escapes him; the fact that he feels like he is finally getting some control over his life, by giving up that control to Stiles.

  
  


Jackson looked at the certificate the sheriff had handed him; California State Certificate of Adoption, it said along the top. He was now officially Jackson Stilinski; and he couldn’t stop the tears of joy falling from his eyes, so he grabbed the sheriff… **_his dad_** in a hug and hid his tears against his shoulder. Within seconds Stiles had launched himself at his back and turned it into group, a family hug.

Jackson remembers going over the paperwork for changing his name with the sheriff.

_ They were sitting at the dining room table, the forms sprawled out in front of them; there were so many steps to go through as he was still minor. Stiles walked in and stood behind him looking over him at the forms. _

_ “I think this would be easier if dad just adopted you,” Stiles joked, and the sudden stillness of his alpha told him that Stiles had picked up on the sudden quickening of his heartbeat. _

_ “Jacks?” Stiles questioned him. _

_ “What did I miss?” the sheriff asked looking between them. _

_ He knew Stiles considered his pack family, considered him family, but he couldn’t ask them to do that; he wasn’t sure he wanted that. The Whittemores adopted him, called him their son, but he never felt that he was a part of them; not like he does here. _

_ “Son, would you want me to do that?” the sheriff is asking him, and he knows he’s missed some of the conversation between Stiles and his dad, “’cause I wouldn’t have a problem filing those papers if that’s what you want.” _

_ Stiles is staring at him and he can see and smell the hope. And he can’t stop that hope starting to build in him; that want to really be part of a family, not just in name but to really feel it. _

_ “Yeah, I’d be okay with that,” his voice quiet as he answers. _

_ “Awesome,” Stiles shouts as he grins at him, and he grins back just as manically. _

“Okay kids, I gotta head to work,” his dad says extricating himself from the two of them.

“Okay dad,” he tries the words out.

“See ya later son,” the sheriff says, ruffling his hair; making him blush and smile at the same time, “And you keep out of trouble kiddo,” he says to Stiles, his alpha… _his brother_. Jackson just can’t wipe the smile from his face.

“Me?! Trouble?!” Stiles splutters.

“Soooo,” Stiles starts when the door closes behind their dad, “Now that we’re brothers any chance I could store some spare stuff in your room?”

“Sure,” he replies, “Anything for my brother.”

“Cool, I’ll get Scott and Isaac to help move the cage into…”

“Hell no!” he roars, “Why would I want that in my room?”

“I just thought you know, we need more room and a bigger bed for us to sleep in, and thought maybe you’d like the idea of Danny being caged in your room, you know, like…”

“Like it might help me with my issues with Danny, seeing him caged in my room when he used to keep me caged in his,” Jackson sees what Stiles is trying, and he knows he’s trying to help, but he doesn’t get why he can’t forgive Danny.

“So…”

“No, I don’t want your pet in my room.”

“But…”

“Stiles, you’re my alpha, and you could order me to…”

“I would never do that,” Stiles exclaims horrified at the thought.

“I know, and I’m grateful for that,” he places his hands on Stiles shoulder, makes sure he is looking at him, “I know you hope that I can forgive him, like Derek and Scott seem to have forgiven you, but you forget one thing; **_the only person who things you need forgiven is you_**. You are Derek’s mate, he’s a Delta and went into heat; that wouldn’t have happened if you were treating him in any way that you needed to be forgiven for. Scott was submissive when he was human and dreamed about being owned by you; and when you did you didn’t treat him in any way that broke that fantasy for him, you basically made his dreams come true. But I’m not submissive, and if I had been a delta then what Danny did to me wouldn’t have caused me to go into heat. I do want to work past my anger, I want to move on past these feelings over Danny; but I can’t, not yet.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m glad I have a brother that cares.”

  
  


Mordin likes to have Plan-B, and a Plan-C. This is his Plan-D.

The slave is dragged naked into his office and dumped on the carpet in front of his desk. He gets out of the chair and walks around to sit on the edge of the desk and look down at the creature. At least they cleaned it up before bringing it here.

“Lieutenant Lunsford,” he sneers down at it, “Your wife was so happy to hear that you had been rescued from the Alliance POW camps.” The slave turns its eyes on him, and a little of the golden hue bleeds into the colour of them at the mention of its former wife.

“What…” Mordin zaps the slave, using the lowest setting of the collar to remind it of its place.

“You’ve been in one of the training facilities for a few months now, you should know better pet,” he scolds it, “Now, listen carefully, I will say this only once.”

“You, and your fellow slaves, are all soldiers MIA since the failed attack. And that makes you perfect for my little plan. You are about to be reunited with your wife and daughter, and you are going to go home and live a happy normal life. With one little detail. You belong to me. And one day I am going to give you an order and you will obey. Otherwise, your wife and daughter will pay the price.”

“And don’t think of trying to run, you have one of the new tracking chips fitted, they aren’t as easy to remove as the older model; you’re more likely to cut through a major artery. And if you don’t obey your order to the letter, your wife and daughter will pay the price. Are we clear slave?”

The slave-pet glares at him.

“ **Are**. **We**. **Clear?** ”

“Woof.”

“Good. Oh, don’t worry, your wife is aware of the horrendous treatment you received at the hands of those Alliance animals and that you will be coming back to this facility for weekly counselling sessions. After all, what sort of master would I be if I didn’t keep up with your training?”

  
  


Stiles’ is lying in the warmth of his pack, including Jackson who still sleeps with the rest of them despite having his own room; and Stiles is happy about that, he likes his family close. He needs it tonight too. He can't help staring back at the alarm clock that is still reading three thirty AM. He and Danny will sign the paperwork tomorrow for their contract and Danny will belong to him for the next year.

He has the room rearranged; the cage is no-longer under the bed, it’s in the corner where his computer desk used to be. Most of the stuff from the desk is in a trunk under the bed, and the laptop is on the bedside cabinet. His dad contacted their realtor and they are finally looking for somewhere with more room.

The sound of the house phone startles him, and he feels the others stir as it wakens them. They lie in the bed as they hear his dad pick up on the next ring.

“Stilinski…” they can’t clearly make out the other side of the call, “Hold on, I’ll go get her.” His dad pads along the corridor and they hear him tap on the guest room door, “Claudia…”

“I heard,” his mom replies and the door is opened and she walks to the phone, “Alpha Stilinski… I’ll be ready.”

“What…” his dad starts to ask.

“The Union has bombed Alaska, and their troops have attacked along the Idaho and So Cal border again. They’ve taken Anchorage, Boise, and San Diego, LA and Bakersfield.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-15 -- Strike Force (Part-2)
> 
> This was the chance that Kate had been waiting for.
> 
> All of Deaton’s test had shown that she was cured, no more aconite whatever it is syndrome, and she really didn’t need his tests to tell her that; she feels better than she has in months.
> 
> Deaton and her brother had been fussing around her for weeks, but both Deaton and Chris currently weren’t here; they were both back in Beacon Hills. Chris was back with Allison and her mutt, and the vet was checking on the results from across all the test groups. That left her with just the orderlies and local nursing staff watching over her and the other five that made their little test group.
> 
> So, when the attacks happened it was easy for her to sneak away while they were focused on the others, intent on making sure that none of them fall into the hands of the Union soldiers. No need for her to wait on getting a transfer across the border; the border had been moved. And with the cure in her blood stream the Union will more than gladly welcome her home.


	15. Strike Force (Part-2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Kate finally found the opening she had been waiting for.

All of Deaton’s test had shown that she was cured, no more aconite _whatever it is_ syndrome, as if she really needed his tests to tell her that; she feels better than she has in months.

Deaton and her brother had been fussing around her for weeks, forcing her to bide her time; but both Deaton and Chris currently weren’t here. They had both finally returned to Beacon Hills. Chris was back with Allison and her mutt, while the vet was checking on the results from across all the test groups. That left her with just the orderlies and local nursing staff watching over her and the other five that made their little test group.

So, when the attacks happened it was easy for her to sneak away while they were focused on the others, intent on making sure that none of them fall into the hands of the Union soldiers. No need for her to wait on getting a transfer across the border; the border had been moved. And with the cure in her blood stream the Union will more than gladly welcome her home.

  
  


Deaton had been working late at the NMC facility double checking the results from the six test groups. Each group was made up of six patients. The results were the same for all thirty-six patients. The cure had been sabotaged.

That’s not to say that it didn’t work, they were cured of the aconite hyper-allergenic immunodeficiency syndrome; but after six weeks their DNA sequence began to alter. They had missed a lycanthrope RNA sequence in the manufactured genes. They had looked for every possible werewolf genetic marker. But Caleb Newman hid his work deeper into the genetic coding than they thought possible. Caleb was smart.

They hadn’t even considered looking for something like this. Especially after they had found the other werewolf markers that they expected to find and removed them. This was something new. It had to be artificial; of course now they knew about it they could remove it from the future samples of the stem cells they create for the serum. But the thirty-six initial patients will be altered forever.

One group are all werewolves, but across them there are also werehyenas, werecougars, werecoyotes, werelions and werejaguars.

He’d been trying to call the hospitals to warn them that the patients needed to be isolated, there was no way to tell when they could begin to shift. Now he knows why he couldn’t get through to all of them. As he speeds towards the Centre he wonders what will happen to any of the patients if the Union captures them, and how to inform the Council. At least they have started to move the data and hardware to the new Argent site. Stiles’ idea; he realised that given the previous intrusion they couldn’t be sure how secure the network in the NMC building was. He then pointed out that he and Chris could rent the sub-basements under one of the Argent facilities to the Council to house their research facility. He’s had Danny build the servers, the network and the security for them from the ground up. The files on the new server are locked down, only he, Marin or Melissa can access them. The NMC building and server will be kept active, though the data won’t be that accurate. After all, they don’t want Caleb to find out that they’re on to him; and it will be interesting to see what else he puts there.

  
  


Claudia looks over the latest reports.

Updates from Alaska are sporadic. The Union forces have tightened their grip on Anchorage, but the fight is continuing well for the Alliance. The weather and difficult terrain gives them a small advantage over the human forces. That’s not to say that they don’t still have problems. The attacks are centred on the three most populated cities, and that is where the Union forces are concentrated. They attacked Anchorage and Juneau simultaneously; once they had secured Anchorage they headed on to Fairbanks.

It was once the forces in Anchorage split that the Alliance resistance started fighting back with small guerrilla attacks that increased in force. If they can lure the Union into the wilderness to fight the Alliance forces will be able to outmanoeuvre the humans.

Her eyes scan over the report from Idaho. The Union forces swept in through the sparsely populated areas; heading for the nearest larger metropolitan areas and securing their hold. From that entrenched position they are swarming; attacking outlying towns before regrouping. But, they don’t have the resources in those areas to maintain their hold. They are leaving themselves vulnerable to retaliation by spreading their forces so thin.

Only in Southern California have they concentrated their forces, striking at specific targets and remaining entrenched in LA, San Diego and Palm Springs.

Bakersfield is the only area that they have struck out from in So Cal; hitting north to Delano, Tulare and Visalia. She knows that they must be looking for the cure; but how do they know that there are patients there that are being treated with the serum? And why would they attack now?

Anchorage, Juneau, and San Diego had been struck by a naval attacks. The cities in-land had been bombarded by air strikes. Once those had subsided the ground forces had swarmed in.

At first they hadn’t been able to understand where they and the heavy artillery they were using had come from. _How had they gotten them so far inside Alliance territory so quickly?_

**The answer was they hadn’t. They had been here for weeks; waiting**.

During the initial few weeks of the migration between the Union and the Alliance things had been less than secure along the border. Details coming to light now suggest that the Union had used that to transport mortars, field guns and munitions in as ‘machinery’; troops had been smuggled in as transport staff moving the goods or as immigrants to the Alliance. No-one checked the trucks going back across the border to ensure that all the non-immigrants were on-board, and no-one had checked that the ‘machinery’ had been delivered and checked that it was what it said it was. If there was a signed piece of paper that looked right it was passed.

There are enough un-populated areas in the states for the Union troops to have set up camp and concealed themselves. And not all of the two thousand mile border was continually manned. But it is all pointing to a long term plan to attack, and that despite the UN resolution recognising the Alliance, the Union never intended to abide by it.

The Union knows that the UN Security council forces are still here, and that they will help defend the Alliance. This attack doesn’t make sense.

  
  


Danny sat nervously in Doctor Crane’s office. Once he signs this contract Stiles will own him for the next twelve months.

The meeting had been postponed due to the Union attack, but he had pressed for them to be allowed to go enter into the contract. The council agreed, and he thinks that is only because they want to show that the Union isn’t winning. 

His parents are sitting beside him. He knows they don’t want him to sign the contract, and since he is under twenty-one they could refuse to give their consent, stopping all he’s worked towards over the past weeks; all they would have to do is not sign their consent.

“I don’t understand why you are still so set on doing this?” his mom says, her voice quivering with emotion, “Haven’t the sessions with the doctor helped?” He turns to look at her, but she is staring straight ahead, not looking in his direction as she talks, the tears she has silently shed leaving tracks down her cheek.

“Yes,” he chokes out, “Yes, they have helped, but I need to do this. _Not for Jackson, not for anyone else, but for me_. I need to do this for me, I know what I did was wrong but that's not enough anymore. I need to understand what I did, and what I put him through. I just know that...I can't live with myself anymore. I need to be able to look Jackson in the eye and tell him I understand what he went through. I will never be able to live with myself until I do.”

His mom and dad both turn to look at him as he talks. The dull sheen in their eyes highlighting the sadness they feel. His dad puts his arm around his mom’s shoulder, he looks like he is about to say something when the door opens and Doctor Crane, Alpha Jonas Quinn, Alpha Claudia Stilinski, and Stiles enter. Quinn is the Council representative, Mrs Stilinski is here as Stiles parent. Stiles’ parents need to give their approval too, due to Stiles’ being under twenty-one.

“Okay, everyone is here now,” the doctor says, “Shall we begin?”

His parents give Stiles an icy glare as they move to sit around the small conference table; and Danny knows that they blame Stiles for this, because he made this possible, but he has explained to them that Stiles only did that because he begged him. Stiles and his mom sit on one side while he and his parents take the seats on the other; Doctor Crane sits down at the head of the table between them, and Quinn takes the seat opposite Crane.

“The terms of this contract are as follows,” Crane begins, “This is a total power exchange contract. There are no-limits imposed by the submissive, _Danny Mahealani_ , on the Dominant’s, _Mr Stilinski’s_ , ownership of him for the duration of the contract.” Danny notes how Crane avoids saying Stiles’ real name and wonders why he didn’t just refer to him as Stiles Stilinski on the contract. Crane continues, “The contract is for twelve months and can only be negated during that period should the results of either party’s quarterly review be unsatisfactory, or should the Dominant fail to abide by the state imposed limitations. These are that the health, life and physical wellbeing of the submissive must not be endangered, and that the submissive must not be forced to undertake any illegal activity.”

“Doc, we already know all this,” Stiles interrupts him, “Do we really need…”

“Yes, Mr Stilinski, he is required to read through the entire contract to impress upon you both the seriousness of your undertaking,” Quinn interrupts.

“We didn’t go through all this when I signed the contracts with Scott and Isaac,” Stiles states.

“They were not enslaving themselves to you,” Quinn states, “It is important that Mr Mahealani understands the power he is giving you over him.”

“I do,” he interrupts the Alpha.

“Theoretically perhaps, but…” Quinn starts.

“But that is the point of this,” Claudia interrupts him, “Theoretically Danny knows what it was like for the wolves that had been enslaved by WERES, theoretically he knows that how they were treated was inhumane, but within the limits we allow he hopes to understand it. Because as you know Jonas, there is a difference between knowing something and the understanding that comes from experiencing it.” Quinn bristles at her words, a darkness covering his countenance, “Now, shall we continue?” Claudia asks; at Quinn’s nod Crane continues.

There wasn’t really much more to be read through. Once Crane is finished Quinn turns his glare on Danny’s parents.

“Mr and Mrs Mahealani, do you understand what your son is asking of Mr Stilinski?” Quinn’s tone is harsh and his disapproval clear. His parents turn and look at him, and he pleads silently with them.

“Yes,” the answer, his mom’s voice near breaking.

“Do you give your consent to his temporary enslavement to Mr Stilinski as per his request?” the Councilman continues. Again he shares a look with his parents; he needs them to say yes. They look to one another before their eyes fall to the table.

“Yes,” his dad says, his voice cracking.

“Yes,” his mother’s voice barely a whisper as he sees the tear streak down her cheek.

Crane passes them the consent form to sign, silently they add their signatures and the date; the form is passed to Quinn who also signs. Quinn then turns to Stiles’ mom.

“Alpha Stilinski, do you give your consent to your son accepting Mr Mahealani’s request to be enslaved by him; that he becomes his Master and responsible for him for the term of the contract?”

“Yes, I consent,” she boldly states. She too signs one of the consent forms.

“Sheriff Stilinski has already signed the form,” Crane informs them, his eyes on Quinn, “As he was required at a crime scene.”

With the consent forms completed their parents leave the room, his mom trying to hold herself together and not breakdown in front of him. He hadn’t realised this was going to be so difficult on them, but he knows he needs to do this.

Once their parents have left the room Quinn turns to Danny and he feels the weight of the werewolf’s gaze.

“Mr Mahealani, make your request of Mr Stilinski.”

“Stiles…” his mouth is suddenly dry when he needs to get the words out, he takes a sip of the water in front of him, “Stiles, please I ask you to accept legal authority over me as your slave for the term of the contract, and ask that you treat me as I and others have treated werewolves as allowed by WERES.” He knows he deviated from the request he had previously given the Council, but it is still within what is allowed by the state imposed limits.

“Mr Stilinski,” Quinn turns his attention to Stiles, “Do you accept Mr Mahealani request?”

“Yes, Danny, I will accept you as my slave within the limits and term of the contract.”

Crane passes them contract, first to Danny as the requestor, then to Stiles; he then signs it himself and finally passes the contract to Quinn.

“My opposition to allowing this type of agreement to be legally recognised is well known, but while I believe this is a wholly abnormal and unhealthy relationship the only thing I could do to stop it would be to not sign this contract,” Stiles’ eyes bleed red, Danny feels his heart leap into his own throat at the thought, “However, the Council has agreed to allow this,” he signs the contract, “Mr Mahealani, for the next twelve months you are now the property of Mr Stilinski; I hope you do not grow to regret your decision.”

Quinn rises and leaves the room; he’s followed by Crane. 

He and Stiles are left alone in the office.

  
  


Danny’s parents are eager to leave the Centre after they have signed the consent form. But Claudia needs to talk to them and is able to convince them to come to her office to allow her to speak to them.

“Please, take a seat,” she smiles at them indicating the chairs beside the desk.

“No, we’d rather not,” Danny’s father briskly replies, “As we said, we’re rather anxious to be on our way; this hasn’t been the most pleasant of experiences.”

“No, I don’t see any way it could be,” she replies as she leans against the edge of the desk, “But there are some things you need to be made aware of before you go. So, I’ll get right to the point. Stiles wanted you to know that he has every intention of terminating the contract if at any point he believes it is no longer right for Danny. He considers Danny as family, has done since before they took the trip to Seattle; I assume you know what that was really about?”

“Danny said when they came back,” Danny’s mother answers, “They were planning to try and make it across the border.”

“Yes,” Claudia smiles at them, “Anyway, Stiles agreed to the contract because Danny wanted it; Stiles said he seemed set on it as the only option, I think he was worried about what Danny might do if he didn't get this chance. Also, I believe that Stiles’ alpha instinct kicked in; he had to protect his pack, to see to Danny’s well-being.”

She can see the tears in both their eyes. Even as he tries to hide his face in his wife’s hair, as he hand is held in front of her face; the scent of them float in the stale air of the office.

“Originally the paperwork was ironclad. Even if Danny wanted out of the contract he couldn’t, nor would Stiles have been able to; only the psychologist could if during one of the quarterly assessments deemed it to be detrimental to Danny’s well-being. Which is why Stiles had a clause added to the contract to allow him to terminate the agreement at any time, and for any reason. And when he believes that being bound by the contract is harmful to Danny’s well-being he will use it.

“We know how low Danny has been since…” Danny’s mom can’t seem to finish the sentence, his dad continues, “This contract, the belief that it could make things right and was a possibility seemed to be the only thing that gave him any hope. After that first meeting with the doctor, when he was told that he wasn’t going to approve it yet he was so down. We were so sacred. He seemed ready to give up, until Stiles came round and talked to him, convinced him to keep coming to the sessions. I guess knowing that he is only going through with it for Danny’s benefit, and that he asked for a way for him to end the contract, well it helps, a little. Thanks.”

With a brief smile and a nod of their heads they leave. She knows her son isn’t doing this only for Danny’s benefit, he believes that it will help Jackson too; and while those are two of the reason’s he agreed fought for the Consensual Slavery Act there is his own more personal reason.

  
  


**“Strip!”** Stiles commands him as he stands up and turns from the table to pick up a backpack that Danny hadn’t noticed him carry into the room. When Stiles turns back he’s still frozen to the spot, sitting in the seat at the table, “I said strip, I don’t want to have to repeat myself again; any order I have to repeat from now on will result in you being punished. Severely.

He swallows hard as he stands and begins to toe off his shoes and unbutton his pants.

“Fold your clothes neatly and put them on the table,” Stiles states as he is pulling some things out of the backpack; he keeps them hidden behind it.

Once he is naked and his clothes folded as instructed, he stands waiting; his hands fall in front of him, covering himself as best he can.

“Hands clasped behind your back,” Stiles barks at him, “Your body isn't your property anymore slave. You no longer have the right to decide who sees it or not. You do not cover yourself from me, or anyone else, understood?”

“Ye…” He feels the sting of the belt smacking against his ass before he realises Stiles had moved behind him. His instinct to move away from the pain almost kicking in before he can stop himself. He doesn’t know if Stiles noticed his lurch or is just ignoring it.

“No! You asked to be treated as the werewolf’s were, and still are outside the Alliance or the handful of countries that don’t allow the enslavement of werewolves; so answer like the slave-pet that you are,” Stiles words chill him for the first time since he asked for this. He feels the stretch of time as Stiles waits for him to answer.

“Woof,” he barks his yes through the tears. His body burns with both the pain of his whipped ass and his embarrassment.

“Good boy, now put these on,” Stiles throws him a pair of shorts, lurid pink spandex with large white lettering across the ass spelling out ‘BOTTOM’. He pulls on the shorts, they cling tightly to him like a second skin; bulging obscenely out in front.

“Kneel,” he gingerly gets to his knees.

“You’ve seen the training videos that WERES made, you know how quickly a well-trained slave-pet should get to his knees,” Stiles berates him, “We’ll need to work on training you to be so that you improve, so expect to spend a lot of time on your knees for a while. And don't worry, I'm sure I can find something for you to do while you're down there.”

He sees Stiles lift another object from the table, a bright pink wide collar. Danny feels the smooth leather rub along the back of his neck as Stiles fits the collar to him, then Stiles is picking up a leash from the table, a white thin strip, and fastening it to the collar. It falls as Stiles lets go and hangs limply against his chest.

“You’re already dressed in more than most slave-pets were allowed to wear, so consider these a treat to protect your feet,” Stiles hands him a pair of neon pink Croc’s, “Put those on and we’ll go home.”

Danny stands to put the sandals on his feet. He sees Stiles putting his clothes he had been wearing in the backpack, he zips it up and slings it over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, taking the end of the leash in his hand.

“Woof,” Danny replies, and receives a small smile in return.

Stiles leads him out of the office and along the corridor; humans and werewolves staring as he’s lead through the Centre, passed the offices and the café, through the general milling of people and out into the street. Danny swallows hard as the reality of what he’s asked for settles in his mind as Stiles leads him through the street at the end of a leash to the car park.

Stiles throws the backpack in the back of his jeep.

“Get in,” Stiles orders him as he drops the leash and walks around to the driver’s side. Danny climbs in and sits in silence as Stiles drives him to his home for the next year; to his life as Stiles’ slave.

  
  


Danny is lying in his cage. It’s the same kind of cage that he had in his room; the type of cage that he kept Jackson in, at least for the first few months.

He’s naked, except for the collar, as he has been since he walked through the door and was told that in the house he will always be naked. It was hard, metaphorically speaking, keeping his hands at his side or behind his back to make sure he didn’t cover himself; especially when the sheriff came home.

He spent most of the evening kneeling in front of Stiles, his Master.

He didn't expect Stiles to be so comforting. Whenever he started to panic, or worry, that he couldn’t handle this or that he’d made a mistake, he would feel Stiles’ fingers work their way through his hair and the touch would ground him; he could almost hear Stiles telling him that everything would be alright. He half wondered if Stiles’ touch was part of the reason he could handle so many wolves, his touch having the same effect as the kibble did, but leaving him clear headed and with his sense of reason.

Now he’s looking through the bars of his cage at the bed where his Master and his pack are huddled together sleeping. Stiles surrounded by them, and Jackson spooning at Scott’s back, his nose buried against his neck. He used to curl himself against him like that.

He pulls the blanket close around him and curls up on the floor of the cage; wondering how many months he will spend in this cage, crying himself to sleep.

  
  


Derek leans back, his weight taken by his arms holding him up as his hands grip at the bed sheets.

“Stiles!” his voice his anxious, needy and breathless as he feels Stiles’ mouth envelop his hard cock in its wet warmth, “Please, Stiles, we can’t…”

“ _Tsh!_ ” Stiles admonishes him, and Derek groans at the loss of the silky warmth that had been giving so much pleasure, “Jackson is in his own room getting dressed, Scott and Isaac have Danny in the bathroom with them getting showered, my Dad’s at work, my mom’s planning troop manoeuvres or something, and I have my mate to myself for like twenty minutes; so believe me, I plan to take full advantage of it by making you come as many times as I can.” And his lips fasten around the head of Derek’s cock.

Stiles’ wet tongue swirls around the corona before he swallows him deep; Derek can barely see Stiles behind his distended belly as he kneels between Derek’s legs. He feels Stiles’ fingers slide along his taint and push gently at his slickened ass. As Stiles’ lips travel back along the length of him, his fingers worm their way inside. The hot feel of his mates’ lips and tongue teasing the sensitive head has him bucking forward, and his fingers massage over the sweet spot inside.

All too soon he falling over the edge of the pleasure and Stiles swallows down his release.

As Derek slides into a near stupor Stiles is lightly kissing around the girth of his swollen belly, rubbing his face against him and emitting a low possessive growl. He climbs up the bed beside him and takes his lips and kiss that is more teeth and possession.

“Love you Sourwolf,” Stiles smiles at him between kisses.

“Love you too,” Derek smiles in return, knowing that the shine in his mate’s eyes is reflected in his own.

“Come on,” Stiles says, “We should get cleaned up and check on the trio in the bathroom.” 

  
  


Stiles has washed Derek, Scott and Isaac; he is now alone in the bathroom was Danny, he sent the others back to the bedroom to get dressed and then to head down stairs with Jackson to start making breakfast.

Scott and Isaac had done a good job with the depilatory cream; Danny is now as smooth from the neck down as they are.

“I’m sure you have some questions,” Stiles says as he dabs the towel against Danny’s wet skin.

“Woof,” Danny replies as he looks up into his eyes.

“You can use words to ask them.”

Stiles sits on the edge of the bath tub and pulls Danny onto his lap, wrapping him in the towel and holding him against him.

“So,” he says, prompting the other teen to say something.

“I… why is Jackson not kept smooth too?”

Stiles wasn’t expecting the question to be asked quite like that. He knows Danny would have seen all of them naked last night as they got ready for bed, and would have seen that Scott, Isaac and Derek have no hair below the neck and are smooth, just as Danny is now, but Jackson and he aren’t.

“Because while I’m his alpha, he isn’t a contracted submissive or slave in the pack.”

“Derek has a contract like Scott and Isaac?”

“No. Scott and Isaac have a contract,” he had only intended to have a twelve month contract, and then renew if they wanted, but they both pouted and asked for more, he eventually got them to compromise on two years, “But Derek is my mate, and a Delta, so it’s recognised by other werewolves that he is submissive to me.”

“So it’s a sign of your dominance over us?”

“Yes.”

“The cages on Scott and Isaac’s cocks,” Danny swallows, “Will you lock one of them on me?”

“Something similar; I’ve ordered a special one for you that hasn’t arrived yet. So, until it does I’ll lock a chainmail pouch around your junk. I’ll decide when you get to come, if ever, and how you get to come.”

“You decide everything for me… Master.”

“Yes, now, let’s finish getting dried, then I will put your collar back on you, I’ll get dressed and we will join the rest of the pack for breakfast.”

  
  


His ankles were tied to the base of the A frame, and the collar around his neck was attached to the bar protruding from the top of the frame; keeping him in place.

His left arm was kept in place by his wrist cuffed to the back of the collar, his right hand pumping furiously on his cock; trying to reach a climax while the cane whips through the air striking his ass, thighs and his upper back.

“Come on pet,” Mordin, his Master, goads him, “You want to get home to your wife don’t you, all you have to do is come for me like the good pet you should be.” The cane lands again with a THWACK; the searing pain of it pulling him back from the brink again when he was so close to spilling his seed.

“I think you’re enjoying yourself too much pet and want to stay here and play.” THWACK.

He picks up the pace of his strokes along the shaft of his cock; trying to get himself harder, trying to get to the tipping point before the next stroke of the cane lands. He can see his reflection in the mirror, his back, ass and thighs covered in a criss-cross of welts. He’s getting close, nearly there when the cane lands across his ass again, THWACK, he ignores it, keeps jacking on his cock and pushing himself over, crying out around the ball gag in his mouth.

“See pet, I knew you’d enjoy our little game tonight,” Mordin says removing the gag, “Didn’t you?”

“Woof,” he knows better now than to bark anything other than a ‘yes’.

“Good boy, don’t worry, the welts will have healed before you get home, now drop down and lick up your scum from the floor.”

  
  


Danny is sitting in chair at one of the computer terminals in the NMC facility. His leash is hanging from his collar, and he is wearing his pink ‘ _BOTTOM_ ’ shorts and Croc’s again.

Stiles and Deaton have him checking over the security systems they have running on the machine; looking for unauthorised attempts to access.

He can hear them talking with Stiles’ mom and dad.

“This place was being used by them to work on more than medical research,” Stiles vents, “There was weapons research being done here too, we need to find it and use it against them.”

“We need to concentrate on the medical,” his mom replies, “That is our bargaining chip with the UN. As long as we deliver a viable cure we keep their support on our side; the vast majority of the other countries still have werewolf enslavement laws, they’d happily sit back and let the Union retake the Alliance states if they didn’t think they had something to gain from us.”

“We could combine them,” Stiles exclaims with a sudden excitement.

“What?” the sound of the sheriff’s confusion clear.

“We weaponise the kibble cure,” there is a sound of glee in Stiles’ voice, “Threaten to bomb the union with the cure if they don’t back off, we wouldn’t need to hit populated areas or cause death and destruction. The wind carried the fallout from the factories infecting people, if we can do the same with the cure, suddenly lots of werewolves fall asleep, wake up angry like Jackson did… the union wouldn’t want that chaos. We’d have them in a stalemate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-16 -- Checkmate
> 
> Caleb knows he must have made a mistake. The Union forces are closing in on his location; and their methodical search of the neighbourhood means they are looking for something, or someone, specific. They have to be looking for him and the search of this area can only mean they know he is here.
> 
> He needs to get out; now. Palm Springs is no-longer safe. He needs to go north; he needs to get to Beacon Hills.  
> “Glenn!” he shouts as he pulls the hard-drives from the server rack.  
> “Sir,” his surly assistant asks. The man should be more grateful. After all, he put a roof over his head and has kept him out of WERES hands since the implant incident and their realisation that his test subject had shifted. Why the man hadn’t left when they crossed the border into California he doesn’t know; and he never asked. He should have checked for aconite in his system, they can do that when they get facility.  
> “Put the packed bags in the car, we’re leaving now…”  
> “What about…”  
> “Leave everything else, we don’t have time and a day’s drive ahead of you.”  
> “You said it was too dangerous to leave when the reports…”  
> “I know what I said, just get the bags and be ready to…”


	16. Stalemate (Part-1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
>   
>    
> 

“ **Absolutely not!** ” Claudia roars at her son, her eyes flashing red as she tries to control herself. She can’t believe he just suggested such a thing, “ **We are not bombing the Union states and lowering ourselves to their level.** **_We_** , need to concentrate on protecting our troops; our efforts need to be focused on developing something to be used by those that have not been affected the gas or kibble, something that can act as a preventative measure. Something to make our troops less susceptible to wolfsbane in combat.”

Stiles’ eyes shine red in response, his own alpha instinct reacting to the command in her voice; seeing her as a threat to his authority.

“Fine! But I didn’t say we should bomb the cities, and we need…”

“Yes we need weapons, we need to defend our people from the threat that the WERES and the Union government pose; but we do not need weapons of mass destruction. Bombing them is not the answer; there’s no way of knowing if the cure would reach it's intended targets, and any number of innocents could be harmed in the process,” she can see that her words are getting through to him; his eyes returning to their human colour.

“Then what do we do?” 

“We could look at weaponising wolfsbane, after all it is also harmful to humans,” Deaton replies, “If you had something that could be targeted, use it to weaken their soldiers.”

“Hey, when Dr Fenris was helping with the development of the cure, didn’t you say that he was treating the wolfsbane as an allergen? Something about using antihistamines to combat what the stem cells couldn't?" Stiles asks, hoping his theory could give them an edge.

“That would be the simple version, yes… Of course, in theory we could use the antihistamines in the cure, but I would have to run some tests to see if it's a viable option,” Deaton replies, “Claudia, it could give the temporary immunisation that you want.”

She turns to Deaton, “If it works and will give our soldiers the edge in combat that need then work on it. Have you been able to resolve the issue of the cure turning humans though? I’d still rather we concentrated on the cure.”

“Yes,” Deaton replies, “The lab-grown stem cells will no longer create the mutations seen in the thirty-six test subjects.”

“There are only thirty-five at the training facility learning how to deal with their lycanthropy, where’s number thirty-six?” Stiles asks, his eyes darting between Deaton and her.

“Kate escaped,” she answers.

“Kate? Kate Argent?” he almost screeches in response. His rising anger is palpable in the change of his scent.

“Stiles…” she begins.

“ **No! No excuses** ,” he’s shouting, the rage emanating strongly from him, “ ** _Why? Why would you give her even a chance of…_** ”

“ ** _Stiles!_** ” 

“ ** _After everything she did to Derek and his family why would you allow her to be a part of the testing program?_** ” he roars; his eyes red as his claws and fangs appear.

“Because we everyone we tested on either had nothing to lose, or was a criminal that was sentenced to die,” Deaton calmly states, “We offered them a chance to live when they otherwise had none, and they all accepted; knowing the risks involved in being the first humans that we tested on, and that they would probably die anyway.”

“You took an unnecessary risk. And now, because of you she is out there again, stronger and more dangerous than ever?”

“We will track her down,” she tries to soothe him; he may have shifted back to human, but she doesn’t need to pick up on his scent to tell that he is still furious. She can see it clearly in his eyes.

She steers the conversation back to the possible research that could be carried out. Danny has managed to reconstruct some of the NMC data from the server. Though he had found that where Danny had retrieved partial details of the deleted project files someone, _whom they believe to be Caleb Newman_ , was filling in the missing pieces on **_some_** of those projects; but not for all of the recovered projects. What they didn’t know was just how those projects would further Newman’s own aims. The process to create the artificial stem-cells he had saved to the server was clearly intended to further his goal to make everyone a lycanthrope of some form. Given the initial results of following that information, she is reluctant to follow any lead that he supplies; at least without far more diligent analysis by Deaton and Morrell first.

They discuss the options for another hour before agreeing that developing an temporary immunisation, for humans and werewolves, would be the priority. A weaponised version of the cure would need to be something that could be targeted, and something that would not endanger the lives of innocent people; the same with weaponising wolfsbane. Collateral damage may be the way of war, but it was something that she will do everything in her power to avoid; there would never be an acceptable level of losses, especially civilians. 

Deaton would put together two teams; with himself heading one to concentrate purely on the antiallergenic, the second team would work on pulling together the weapons research data and look for anything that could help develop a delivery system for either weaponised wolfsbane or a weaponised version of the cure.

  
  


Caleb knows he must have made a mistake. The Union forces are closing in on his location; and their methodical search of the neighbourhood means they are looking for something, or someone, specific. They have to be looking for him and the search of this area can only mean they know he is here.

He needs to get out; now. Palm Springs is no-longer safe. He needs to go north; he needs to get to Beacon Hills.

“Glenn!” he shouts as he pulls the hard-drives from the server rack.

“Sir,” his surly assistant asks. The man should be more grateful. After all, he put a roof over his head and has kept him out of WERES hands since the implant incident and WERES realisation that his test subject had shifted. Why the man hadn’t left when they crossed the border into Alliance held California he doesn’t know; and he never asked. He should have checked for aconite in his system, they can do that when they get facility.

“Put the packed bags in the car, we’re leaving now…”

“What about…”

“Leave everything else, we don’t have time and a day’s drive ahead of us.”

“You said it was too dangerous to leave when the reports…”

“I know what I said, just get the bags and be ready to…”

There’s banging on the door. He’s run out of time. They won’t both be able to hide, and the drives cannot fall into their hands. He thrusts the drives into Glenn’s hands.

“Hide, and do not let them find you or get these. _Once it’s clear you need to take these to Alan Deaton in Beacon Hills_. Do **_not_** let anyone else get these, _do you understand_?”

“Yes, but…”

“No time.” He pushes Glenn into the space between the walls of the rooms.

He grabs another two disks; ones he prepared previously with random bits written to the disks’ surface, he quickly places them in the server rack and as the soldiers burst into the room looks as though he is trying to erase the data, to cover the fact he’s removed the real drives.

As they drag him from the house he hopes they don’t find the hiding spot he pushed Glenn into; everything now depends on Glenn getting the actual server disks to Beacon Hills.

  
  


Rafe is back in his motel room and he really wants to punch something; someone, anything. He’s going to need to step up his game to get on the inside and complete his mission. And it’s proving far more frustrating and difficult than he thought.

He had finally gotten time alone with Scott, planning to work on getting the pet to trust him. Getting him to agree to a meeting at all had taken more effort than he’d anticipated. And Scott wasn’t supposed to be there on his own. But when Scott arrived at the IHOP he didn’t have any of them with him; it was better than he could have hoped for. Stiles, it turned out, had to meet with Deaton and had taken Danny with him; Derek wasn’t feeling up to coming out and so Isaac had stayed at home with him, while Jackson was meeting with Lydia.

_ “I was supposed to cancel, but I decided I want to hear what you had to say,” Scott tells him, but Rafe picks up the desire in his voice; the want in him to believe what he hears. _

_ “So, if you were to supposed to cancel where do the others think you are just now?” _

_ “Getting some more ginger for Derek’s tea,” Scott replies, holding up a small bag in his hand, “Which I have, so I didn’t lie to them.” _

_ “Won’t they be angry with you if they find out?” he asks, “Especially Stiles if he told you to cancel; aren’t you supposed to obey him? With the contract an’ all.” _

_ “It’s not like that, he trusts me to do what’s right,” his tone is getting defensive. _

_ “Okay, I’m not trying to offend you,” he holds his hands up like you would trying to placate any startled wild animal, “I just don’t understand. How about we start again, and have some lunch.” _

While they ate he tried asking about Stiles, and the wolves he… had living with him, carefully avoiding saying ‘ _the wolves he keeps_ ’, which was the first thing that came to his mind. But Scott effectively clammed up on the subject; giving him little more than yes or no answers.

It’s after they’ve eaten, mostly in silence, he tries to garner some sympathy. He talks about why he left, the fact that during a drunken argument with Melissa he knocked Scott down the stairs, tells him how there is still a dent in the floor where he landed, and that he was so sorry for what happened, he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since.

_ “You know what, dad,” he bristles at the animals tone let alone the fact it calls him dad, but he doesn’t let it show, “the house is littered bumps and scrapes from the accidents I had growing up; the stairs, maybe it was an accident, maybe it was worse, but you know what I healed. I don’t need your apology, so… see you at graduation or whenever you decide to show up again.” _

Scott got up from the booth and turned heading to the door. He called after him, but the pet just kept walking and ignoring him. 

  
  


Kate carefully checks the upper floor of the building; finally relaxing when she confirms her suspicions, the place is clear. The occupants gone and the place abandoned.

This isn’t how things were supposed to have gone, but she has managed to stay one step ahead of the Union’s forces since she escaped the camp in Bakersfield; and out of sight of the Alliance’s pansy-assed pussies. Ha! Ain’t that a kick in ass.

It had been going well. She had met with a group of Union soldiers shortly after she got away from the hospital. She’d grabbed her ID to show who she was, she wanted to have something on her that would show she wasn’t some bleeding heart liberal that supported the animals getting treated as if they were normal; so her driver’s license would do. And it did.

When she told them that she had been injected with the cure for the kibble gas disease that only sped her faster towards the more secure Union lines.

She’d been on edge all day, but she just put it down to that feeling of something was going to happen. And she’d been right. The Union started to fight back and take back the states the dogs had tried to mark as theirs. That feeling of edginess had only grown as the day wore on and she was stuck in the back of a transport truck with a dozen sweaty soldiers.

When they arrived at the compound it was getting dark, and the moon was starting to rise.

_ “We’ll show you through to the infirmary, the doctor can give you a check-up; you know just to make sure you’re okay,” one of the jarheads comments as they lead her through the compound. _

_ “I’ve been stuck with doctors checking me out for the last six weeks,” they don’t even crack a smile at her quip. She thought she was funny. _

_ “This way Ms Argent,” the jarhead smiles at her. _

_ They lead her into a small backroom, it’s just off a corridor that leads to a set of large double doors. They leave her in the room, but are at least a couple of them waiting just outside the door. The room is like any doctor’s office, a desk with a chair either side, a computer on the desk, and a sink in the corner of the room. She can see the beginning of the moonrise through the window. _

_ “Ah, Ms Argent,” a small man in a white coat, his hairline receding and a pair of Harry Potter glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he peers down at some papers. He places the papers on his desk, “Just let me organised,” he says as he rummages around in the cabinet beside the sink. He turns back to her with a needle in his hand, “It’ll just be a little prick,” he jokes. _

_ “Aren’t they always,” she shoots back. _

_ As he steps closer to her she feels the anger rising; typical man keeping her waiting, deciding for her, thinking he knows what’s what and what’s best… _

_ As the needle pierces into the vein she hears the low growl, as the vial starts to fill with blood, her vision shifts, the claws elongate and the taste of copper fills her mouth. _

_ “What the…” the doctor doesn’t finish as her hand sweeps up and her claws slice through his throat; the vial of blood smashing on the floor and the needle landing beside it. _

_ The jarheads outside the door coming rushing in; she roars at them before ripping them open before they fire a shot, then she’s jumping through the window. _

She made it out of the compound, and her skill as a hunter as kept her one step ahead of the meatheads. She knows she’s not a wolf; she looks more like the freaking aliens in avatar, so she assumes some sort of cat. And she intends to make those responsible for doing this pay.

  
  


Danny kneels nervously in front of Stiles. He’s naked except for his collar. The pack are mostly sitting close to Stiles on the couch with Derek sitting to his left while Isaac sits on Scott’s lap at Stiles right. Jackson is sitting with Ethan on the sheriff’s chair, and Aiden has brought one of the dining chairs into the room and is sitting straddling the chair backwards; his arms resting along the top as he smirks down at him.

He’d gotten used to being naked in front of the pack; not comfortable with it, but used to it. Ethan and Aiden being here was a new level of discomfort.

“You’re going to put on a show for us,” Stiles tells him as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a box that had been hidden underneath. Stiles lifts the lid of the box, but Danny can’t see inside it, the hinged lid locking to obscure his view. Stiles reaches in pulls a bottle of lube and large dildo out; the toy is dark blue at the base and fades to a lighter blue at the head, it has ridged veins below the head down to the bulge that flares out before tapering to the base.

“You’re going to fuck yourself on this nine inch firm toy until you come,” Stiles states, you can jack yourself off as you ride the fake cock, but come too quickly and I’ll put you over my knee and paddle your ass. So make it a good show.”

He swallows thickly as Stiles hands him the toy and the lube; he can’t help but think back to the time he made Jackson come in front of everyone in the cafeteria at school using the glass plug on him. And he knows that is exactly why Stiles is making him do this.

“You should finger your ass first and get yourself opened up before starting to fill your hole with the toy,” Stiles warns him, his voice drawing him back from his thoughts. He feels the burning heat of his shame flaring over him as he coats his fingers in the lube and brushes them over his asshole. Ignoring the bark of laughter and ‘ _fuck_ ’ voiced by Aiden.

As he works two fingers inside himself his cock starts to stir in interest at what he’s doing, despite the awkward angle; his cock has been locked inside the chainmail pouch for most of the month Stiles has owned him, so it shouldn’t surprise him that he’s starting to get hard despite the audience.

Soon his cock is solid and resting against his abs, drooling over his skin as he works the three fingers in and out of himself.

“I think you’re opened up enough for the toy now pet,” his master says.

He pulls his fingers out of his loosened ass and grabs the blue cock, slicking its surface with more of the lube before raising himself over it and sitting down until he begins to stretch at the wide bulge. His eyes fly open at the burn of it, he hadn’t even realised he had them closed, and he is suddenly confronted by his audience staring at him. He’d forgotten he was being watched. His desire falters slightly, his cock losing some of its rigidness.

“Come on pet,” Stiles draws his attention, “You were doing so well, you can do this.”

“Sure, it’s fun if you’re an exhibitionist,” Jackson snorts. And Danny knows why he has to do this; his first chance to show Jackson just how far he is willing to go to make things right.

He rises up on the dildo and lowers himself as his hand works the length of his cock back to full hardness. The pace with which he’s rising and falling on the blue cock increases with the speed of his hand working himself to climax; he can feel it building, he arches backwards, his head falling as his balls draw up and the heat starts to spread with his approaching orgasm.

With a shout he sits fully on the cock and his seed sprays up over his chest and abs as he falls backwards. He’s acutely aware of the look of revulsion Jackson has, the impassive expression being worn by Ethan, and the derisory smirk Aiden shows.

“I’m going to go sleep at Ethan’s,” Jackson growls as he rises, Ethan jumping from this lap. He and Ethan are quickly out the door, Aiden leaves right behind them, commenting, “Oh, by the way slave, you make a very good slut.”

“Why don’t you three go up and get ready for bed while I clean up Danny,” Stiles says to the others.

“You okay?” Stiles asks when he returns with a warm damp cloth and begins to clean him up.

“Woof,” he doesn’t count how he feels at Jackson’s rejection and look of disgust.

“Okay,” Stiles sets the cloth aside once his come has been wiped from his body, “Just so you know the next time we do this you’ll be scooping up your come and eating it.” He can’t stop the widening of his eyes at Stiles’ words.

“Now, some things I ordered for you have arrived,” he says bringing something else from the box. His master places a ring around his balls and cock, and then pulls his cock through a smaller ring. A small cage is fitted over his cock and the slight burning sensation, as the ball end of the central plug is pushed down inside his cock, kills any stirrings at his handling. The cage is locked in place.

“Nearly finished,” Stiles says as he ruffles his hair, the touch calming him slightly.

Next Stiles pulls the dildo from his ass, but it is quickly replaced by metal plug. He then takes two metal tags from the box and shows him both before fixing them to his collar. The first reads “slave danny”, and the second says “this slave is the property of Stiles Stilinski”; they clink together as he fits them to his collar.

“So everyone will know exactly who you belong to, even if I’m not holding your leash. Come on let’s get you to bed.”

Danny follows his master up the stairs, the tags clinking together on his collar, and his ass clenched around the plug locked inside, knowing Stiles means ‘ _get you locked in your cage_ ’.

  
  


Glenn had stuck to the minor roads and stayed clear of the larger towns and cities, so it had taken him longer than Caleb had thought to get even as far as the edge of the lands still held by the Union.

He was driving from Ivanhoe just north of Visalia, which was still held by the Union forces, to Kingsburg that had been retaken by the Alliance. He was in the middle of what was effectively a no-mans-land; being pursued by a US Marine light armoured reconnaissance vehicle, the machine gun on the roof of the armoured vehicle is manned and firing at him. Putting his foot down hard on the gas he speeds up and is putting distance between them when the rear passenger side tyre blows, hit by the machine gun fire, and his car flips.

When his vehicle stops rolling and comes to a stop he looks through the shattered windscreen and sees the LAV-25 slowing and come to stop; he’s scrambling to get out of the car, hand flailing to grab the backpack with his clothes and the computer drives that Caleb gave in stashed in the bottom. He sees four of the crew from the armoured car heading in his direction and he’s not sure he’s gonna get away in time when the unmistakable sound of the rotary blades of a helicopter are coming towards them from the direction of Kingsburg. The LAV-25 starts firing at what he thinks is an Australian Armed Reconnaissance Helicopter (ARH) Tiger. A missile from the helicopter fires down on the LAV-25 and machine gun fire is flying past him in both directions.

When the gunfire winds down he’s being pulled from the car, his hand holding tightly to the backpack that he won’t let go of, and being asked ‘ _you alright mate_ ’ in an Aussie accent.

“I need to get to Beacon Hills, got to see Deaton…” he says as he tries to get up; he realises he can’t feel his leg, he looks down at it, sees the dark staining and it hits him how badly he’s hurt, the sting of the wolfsbane in the bullets affecting him as he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-17 -- Stalemate (Part-2)
> 
> Stiles and the pack are visiting Allison in the hospital, and by extension visiting Chris and Jacob too.
> 
> “There still isn’t any change in her condition?” Stiles asks.  
> “No,” Chris replies, “They are discussing trying the new serum on her, probably in the next week.”  
> “Then we can go home, when she wake up,” Jacob says, the look of hope in his face so desperate. The cure had cleared the aconite from Jacob’s system, but like so many of the facility bred werewolves it hadn’t changed his subservient nature, he still saw Allison as his mistress; far closer to how Stiles was Danny’s master than he was Scott or Isaac’s. Deaton and his team were looking into why so many of the wolves like Jacob were showing so little change after being given the cure; Stiles thought that it was just their nature to be submissive, much like it was for deltas and Scott.  
> “Yes Jacob, then we can all go home,” Chris soothes the wolf’s worries.
> 
>  **“Shit!”** Derek suddenly roars. Stiles turns to see him bent over and clutching at his stomach.  
>  ** _“What’s wrong?!”_** he desperately asks, **_“Is it the babies? Has something happened to the babies? Jackson, get a doctor!”_**


	17. Stalemate (Part-2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

“According to his ID his name is Glenn Soares,” he hears a man saying as he comes too. He’s not sure where he is, other than the fact he’s in a bed; then some comes and stands beside him, a woman, a wolf, and an alpha.

“Good, you’re awake Mr Soares,” she smiles down at him, “I’m Alpha Major Laura Hale, and we have a lot to talk about.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Community Regional Medical Centre in Fresno,” she replies, “and our Australian colleagues tell us that you said something about getting to Beacon Hills and Deaton before you passed out. Care to explain?”

“I…” at his hesitation her eyes flash red and he finds himself instinctually baring his neck to her, “I need to give something to Dr Deaton.”

“The hard drives in the backpack you were holding onto?” From the look in her eye he didn’t keep the shock out of his expression; he shouldn’t have been surprised that they had been through his stuff, they would need to check what he was carrying. “Want to tell me where you got them, and what’s on them?”

There’s no point in him lying to her, she’ll know; he hasn’t been around that many wolves since he turned. Caleb was too busy keeping him safe. Even after they crossed the border into Alliance territory he didn’t feel safe too far away from the man. He didn’t trust humans easily, and didn’t know how to trust his instinct around wolves. He hadn’t had anyone that could teach him. He can’t lie, so he tells her what he can.

  
  


Stiles was already home when Scott got there from meeting with his dad, and knew he hadn’t just been to the store to get some ginger. After he told them what happened when he met his dad Stiles decided that his punishment was he wouldn’t get to come this weekend when Isaac does; he’ll stay locked in the chastity cage for another week before he’s allowed; then he’ll be locked in it again for at least thirty days, and any further disobedience will add to the days he doesn’t get to come. Stiles stated that he’d throw two six-sided die, the total is the number of days that would be added to how long his cock stayed locked up. He thinks another week won’t be too bad, and thirty days is what he and Isaac have already had. What really shocked him was when Stiles stated that during Isaac’s heat he would be locked in the cock-cage again and only allowed to fuck him with a strap-on. That was when he realised Stiles was **_really_** unhappy about him going to see his dad alone.

He knows Stiles was worried about him, and he figures he just needs to not give Stiles any further reason to be mad at him as he sits between Isaac and Stiles with the rest of his pack around him in Arby’s; Stiles wanted to come here for something to eat before they went to the movie theatre, he wanted to get the curly fries. They are going to see ‘ _Captain America – The Winter Soldier_ ’. Derek is more excited than Stiles to go see it, and Stiles is excited. Jackson doesn’t want to see the movie, so he is going to meet up with Ethan after they’ve finished eating; they are going to see ‘ _22 Jump Street_ ’ with Erica and Boyd. But he is going back home with them once the movies let out.

“Okay, we ready to go?” Stiles asks them as he finishes his second large cup of Pepsi, he passes the empty cup to Danny saying, “Clear the table.” Jackson passes his empty wrapper with a smirk; Danny just piles the empty wrappers and cups onto a tray and takes them to the nearest trashcan.

When they get to the multiplex Ethan, Erica and Boyd are waiting in the foyer. Ethan kisses Jackson as he greets him; Danny is standing next to Scott, and he picks up the subtle souring of Danny’s scent. Stiles is over at the kiosk buying some snacks for during the movie, even though they have just eaten, and he gets another large coke.

The trailers are showing as they enter, and the screening seems to be mostly empty. Stiles leads them down to the middle seats and he finds himself sitting between Stiles and Isaac again. There’s no one around them, a couple of people sitting up at the back, he’s sure are wolves, and half-dozen down towards the screen. Stiles takes a big slurp on his drink before the movie starts.

Scott is caught up in the movie…

_ « Natasha Romanoff: Where did Captain America learn to steal a car? » _

_ « Steve Rogers: Nazi Germany. And we're borrowing. Get your feet off the dash. » _

“Hey, Scotty, I need you to do something for me,” he hears Stiles whisper in his ear, “I need a bathroom break,” Scott begins to move to let Stiles out when Stiles hand grips his arm tight, “No Scotty, I want you to get now on your knees in front me of me and take a long drink.”

Scott looks at him, he’s sure Stiles can’t be serious; not here, in public. He feels the churning in his gut, like a ball of snakes writhing; but there is also the tightness that starts in his groin as his cock tries, and fails, to lengthen and thicken trapped in the metal cage.

“I’d miss some of the movie, it might be something important to the plot; I don’t want to risk that do I?” Scott numbly shakes his head, “Then be a good boy, get on your knees, and take my cock in your mouth so I can piss down your throat. Unless you really don’t want to…” Stiles moves as if to push past him to get to the aisle.

“No, please,” he begs in a rushed whisper; pulling Stiles back to his seat. He can’t believe he’s gonna do this, but he wants to so much.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” Stiles asks him. He nods slowly, holding back the desperate whine aching to escape his throat.

“Then get down on your knees and take my cock in your mouth so I can piss down your throat,” Stiles growls huskily in his ear.

The needy whine pushes out of his mouth as he slides out of the chair, trying to be quiet as he gets to his knees, trying not to attract the attention of those not in his pack to what he’s doing. The sound of Stiles zipper being pulled down is so loud to his ears; louder than the thud of his own heartbeat. Stiles fingers slide in through the open fly of his jeans and pull his cock out. The smell hits Scott and he can’t help but drag his tongue over his dry lips, the want that builds in his to swallow his Master deep into his throat. He swallows thickly before taking the head of Stiles cock between his now moist lips and suckles. He looks up into Stiles face and sees him smiling down at him; Stiles combs his fingers through his hair and he feels so calm at his alpha’s touch. His eyes are momentarily drawn behind Stiles to the wolves in the back row, he’s sure they are watching him, then the taste of Stiles splashes over his tongue and all thoughts leave him, Stiles hand rests on the back of his head and he drinks him down. His own cock trapped painfully in the confines of the cage as it tries to harden with his desire.

Scott isn’t sure how long he remains on his knees, the movie playing behind him as he suckles on the head of his Master’s dick. Stiles has stopped pissing; he’s running his tongue around the ridge not wanting to let the meaty head slip from his mouth. Feeling his master get hard under the motions of his tongue, he's barely even aware of what he's doing as he take it in his mouth; licking and sucking on the long cock as his master grabs hold of his hair in his fists and thrusts into his mouth shooting a thick stream of cum down his throat.

“You can get back into your seat now and watch the rest of the movie, unless you want to keep doing what you’re doing; my good, good boy,” Stiles whispers to him, and he remembers where they are, and that other people could have seen him, must have seen him, and know what he was doing; drinking his master’s piss and come. He slinks back into his seat as Stiles tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens his zipper; and with his cock still pressing painfully against the confines of the cage it’s locked behind he realises that Stiles is going to make this a very painful punishment after all.

  
  


Lydia is sitting alone at table in the small café with a chai latte when she feel the looming presence of someone standing behind her and then hears his arrogant snort of derision. She turns round to look at him.

“They let you out on your own? What if you start to terrorise the townspeople?” she arches her eyebrow at him.

“Should have figured you for the sappy type, but seriously have you not seen The Notebook, it’s been out for like ten years already?” Aiden says ignoring her comment.

“Not that it’s any of your business, yes I have seen it before, and I like it,” she replies, returning to her drink and turning her back on him.

“So why watch it again if you’ve already seen it?” he asks walking round in front to face her.

She looks up at him unable to fathom how he could be so dense; he just stares back.

“I told you,” she says placing her cup back down on the table, “Because I like the movie; which means I enjoy watching it again, and I can notice things in that I missed before, or take away a different understanding, interpretation, of a scene.”

He grunts his response before going and picking up his drink from the counter; she returns to enjoying her own.

“Why go to the video store and rent the DVD? Why not just watch it on Netflix, or buy the damn movie?”

The wolf was infuriating. She downs the last of her latte and stares up at him.

“Because I enjoy the ritual of browsing through the shelves of the store, picking up the case, reading the sleeve notes and interacting with the person behind the counter. Of placing the DVD in the player and settling back on the couch in front of the TV. Because I wanted to watch the DVD,” she grabs the case from the table, stands and walks out.

_ Seriously, why is that wolf so annoying? She doesn’t have a problem with his brother; how can they be so different? _

  
  


Jackson had planned everything down to the last minute.

Scott and Isaac were out of the house visiting Scott’s mom. Derek was with Laura, having a meal and then skyping with their sister Cora. And the slave had his session with the psychotherapist. Stiles would be back soon from dropping Danny off, and the sheriff… their dad should be back from his shift about the same time.

He knew everything was ready, he’d set the table in the dining room for the three of them; the lasagne was baking and the salad was in the crisper. Everything was set for the Stilinski men to have dinner together.

His heart was going a mile a minute; was he being presumptuous thinking they’d appreciate him doing this? The sound of Stiles’ jeep drew him from his worrying.

“Hey Jacks, are you actually cooking something in the kitchen?” Stiles shouts as he walks through the front door.

“No I’m cooking it right here in the hallway,” he back chats, “Of course I’m cooking in the kitchen, where else would I be cooking.” Stiles stares at him, and he begins to worry and just starts talking, “I wanted to make dinner, you know, for us; for you, me and…”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, for you, me and our dad, to, like, say thanks for…” Stiles grabs him in a bear hug.

“Aww, my big brother loves me, you love your baby brother,” Stiles sing-songs against his ear.

“Get off, you stink of Danny,” despite his words he doesn’t let go, he holds Stiles as tightly as he’s being held. And he’s only rubbing his cheek against him to get the scent of Danny off of his brother. That’s the only reason.

“Okay, what did I miss,” the sound of the sheriff’s voice catches them both unawares, “And is that real meat I smell, not one of those vegetarian substitutes Stiles normally…”

“Yeah, yeah old man,” Stiles says, “You can thank your other son for giving you a treat today.”

“Thanks son,” his dad beams at him, “If I had known you could cook I would have adopted you years ago. What’s the occasion?”

He hears his heart thudding in his ears as his dad smiles at him; his alpha’s thumb running small circles against the nape of his neck the only thing calming him.

“I just… we never… I just wanted to do something… to say thanks for letting me part of the family,” he fights his emotions to get the words out. He’s suddenly caught between both Stiles and his dad.

“You’ll always be family. And if you keep making food with real meat then you’ll be the favourite before the week is out.”

"I thought parents didn't have favourites?" Stiles said, pulling back to look at his dad.

"I haven't had two kids for long but I already know those parents are clearly lying, I can definitely see myself having a favourite." 

"I may not have thought this whole adoption thing through..." Jackson replied.

“Oh hush, there’s no getting rid of us now anyway bro, you’re a Stilinski now; your stuck with us, forever.”

The beeping from the timer in the kitchen causes them to break the hug.

“I better get changed and washed up,” his dad says as he heads up the stairs.

“Yeah, I’ll help dish up,” his brother says following him into the kitchen.

And Jackson knows he belongs here; that he has the loving family he always needed.

  
  


Everything had worked out almost exactly as she had hoped.

When the UN Security forces had rallied, the Russians, French, Chinese and Australian forces had helped secure the borders once more. The Alliance forces alone had been able to retake Idaho. The Russian naval forces had landed at the ports in Alaska to find that he Union was already being routed from cities. Their forces having moved out to try and deal with attacks in the outlying areas finding themselves overwhelmed by the werewolves who were far better able to deal with the weather and terrain.

Deaton and his team had been able to complete the research needed in the new facility. They have produced the cure needed to secure the UN and allied support against the Union. With it she had managed to outmanoeuvre the UN negotiators and secure favourable terms for the UN supporting the Alliance. The cure will only be manufactured within the Alliance, and shipped to those countries that agreed to their terms. 

  * No new enslavement of werewolves
  * Plans must be put in place to abolish existing werewolf enslavement laws, and must be enacted within two years
  * An end to the manufacture and use of kibble
  * All werewolves must have access to the serum, it cannot only be given to humans


  * She knows that they plan to try and reverse-engineer the serum and then back out of those agreements. Let them try.



She doesn’t understand exactly what Deaton and his team did, but the cure can’t be reverse-engineered; at least not without access to Derek’s genetic profile and Caleb’s research; data that is held encrypted in separate locations. They didn't even keep the encryption key on site.

The negotiations here harsh and down-right hostile at times. Though she would gladly face the UN team compared to having to deal with one other person. She hoped to never have to negotiate with Peter Hale again; he was cunning and tricky enough for her to wonder if he wasn’t really a fox in disguise. The deal he carved out for Argent’s securing them the rights to manufacture any weaponry under the ‘Argent Arms and Accessories’ arm of Argent Holdings, as well as the terms of the lease on the sub-basements being used for the research facility, made the man rather formidable. She can see why Stiles put him charge of managing the company for them.

Deaton had delivered the on all counts, the protection against the gas, which the Union was weaponising, became a life saver for the Alliance, and the UN, troops. And with the data that Mr Soares delivered the weaponising of the serum and the wolfsbane is underway. They have already tested a grenade of concentrated serum; it releases a gas of the concentrated form of the serum, like a smoke or tear-gas grenade, and in an enclosed space the humans or wolves within quickly succumb to its effects. If the Union ever defies the UN resolution recognising the Alliance again, they will ready to use this.

Their borders are secure, and both Alliance and UN Security forces are patrolling them. Once again they have managed to defeat the Union’s forces. She knows that not all of the UN members support the Alliance, most of the UN member states still enslave werewolves, but with the aid they are able to provide with the serum to cure the aconite hyper-allergenic immunodeficiency syndrome they have the upper hand for now.

  
  


Derek is out with Laura for dinner. Jackson is on a date with Ethan. His dad is working, and his mom is meeting with the Council. So he’s alone in the house with Scott, Isaac and Danny.

Currently Scott and Danny are pouting as they both kneel at the bottom of the bed, their hands held behind the back of their neck while their cocks are still locked in their chastity cages.

Isaac is writhing on the bed, his cock hard and leaking, nearly as much as his ass is, as Stiles works the dildo in and out of his ass.

“Please Master, please, alpha, please Sir,” Isaac begs so prettily, his hands fisting in the covers as he stops himself from touching his cock.

“Not yet pup,” he coos at him. His own cock is rock hard in his jeans. As he continues to work the length of rubber in and out of Isaac’s slick soak hole with one hand, he opens his jeans with the other and fishes is cock out. The whine from Scott has Isaac snapping his eyes open and locking on Stiles’ shaft; Isaac’s own whine quickly following.

“You wanna taste?” he asks.

“Please Master,” Isaac replies as his tongue darts across his lips, his mess of curly hair damp with sweat.

“Come down here and get it then,” he commands him, he can’t stop the red bleeding into his eyes, and Isaac’s own turn golden in response, “and don’t let the toy fall out of your ass.”

Isaac gets down on his knees on the floor, and Stiles sits on the bed. As the delta fucks himself on the dildo he takes Stiles’ length deep in his throat. As Isaac works himself on dildo in his ass and the cock in his throat Stiles reaches over to the bedside cabinet. Reaching in he retrieves the paddle and begins to rain down on Isaac’s ass; timing his strokes to Isaac rising up off the rubber cock.

“Such a good pup Isaac, so good,” Stiles gasps, “I’m so close, come when I do.”

As he fills Isaac’s mouth he feels the splatter of Isaac’s release coat his leg.

He pulls Isaac up and captures his mouth as they fall back on bed.

“You two can get over here and lick up the mess,” he instructs Danny and Scott. As he lays cuddled with Isaac he feels one of them drag their tongue over his leg to clean up Isaac’s seed. He’s too tired to pay attention to which one.

  
  


Stiles and the pack are visiting Allison in the hospital, and by extension visiting Chris and Jacob too.

“There still isn’t any change in her condition?” Stiles asks. 

“No,” Chris replies, “They are discussing trying the new serum on her, probably in the next week.”

“Then we can go home, when she wake up,” Jacob says, the look of hope in his face so desperate. The cure had cleared the aconite from Jacob’s system, but like so many of the facility bred werewolves it hadn’t changed his subservient nature, he still saw Allison as his mistress; far closer to how Stiles was Danny’s master than he was Scott or Isaac’s. Deaton and his team were looking into why so many of the wolves like Jacob were showing so little change after being given the cure; Stiles thought that it was just their nature to be submissive, much like it was for deltas and Scott.

“Yes Jacob, then we can all go home,” Chris soothes the wolf’s worries.

“ **Shit!** ” Derek suddenly roars. Stiles turns to see him bent over and clutching at his stomach.

“ ** _What’s wrong?!_** ” he desperately asks, “ ** _Is it the babies? Has something happened to the babies? Jackson, get a doctor!_** ”

“Yes it’s the babies,” Derek answers between laboured panting, “There’s nothing wrong, I’m just having contractions; they’ve decided that they want to be born.”

Eight hours later Stiles and Derek are in another room in the hospital with their two new born cubs sleeping peacefully beside them.

  
  


She walks into the office, taking in the details of the room; the placement of the desk lit by the sun streaming through the window, the bookshelves behind it, and the large flat screen TV on the opposite wall showing one of the news channels covering the new WERES training facility that was being visited by Palin.

“Ah, President Bachmann so glad you could join me,” Mordin greets her.

“It’s Vice-President Bachmann,” she says extending her hand.

Mordin just smiles at her, like he knows something she doesn’t.

Her eyes are suddenly drawn to the TV, Palin is getting out of the car and walking towards the steps of the facility. As she walks along cameras flashing and someone pushes out from the crowd, their shifting, people are scrambling fleeing from him as he roars, rushing at the President, throwing her security detail aside, and slashing his claws through her throat as he shouts, “For the Alliance.” There is chaos at the scene as the security personnel take down the slave-pet.

“So, President Bachmann, or shall I call you Michele,” Mordin’s smile is thin lipped and full of menace, “So, Michele, let me tell you what you’re going to do for your country.”

She doesn’t reply, she doesn’t say anything. She just listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>    
> 
> 
> ### Excerpts from _Resurgence of the Hunters_
> 
> “No, absolutely not!” Derek growls at his mate, “We are not calling our son Anakin!”  
> “But…”  
> “No Stiles,” Derek interrupts, “And not Jango, nor Boba, and not Lando; we are not calling him after any character from Star Wars.”  
> “What about Bruce... Remy... Clinton... Wade... Steven... Nicholas… Charles… Philip…”  
> Derek huffs out a resigned sigh before he speaks to cut-off Stiles before he called out every male character in the Marvel universe.  
> “If we’re gonna name him after a Marvel character then there’s only one choice.”  
> “Wolverine,” they said together. 
> 
> They’ll put ‘James Logan Stilinski-Hale’ on the certificate, but they’ll both know who he’s named after.
> 
> \------------
> 
> Danny struggles underneath his opponent, trying to raise his upper body to push him off. But he’s already realised Danny’s predicament, knows that he is hard in the wrestling singlet, and that pushing down against his ass is pushing the plug inside him, throwing Danny’s concentration and ability to think of anything; except how close he is to coming, to embarrassing himself in front of all the spectators from both schools as they watch him shoot his load until it soaks through the thin material in the first release he has had in so long.
> 
> \------------
> 
> He groggily awakes, his body wracked in pain. He tries to lift his hand to wipe at his eyes, the light causing him as much pain as every other part of his body feels; but he can’t, both wrists are strapped to the bed.
> 
> “Ah, my pet is coming round,” the voice he’d grown to hate said; he thought he’d escaped when the secret service shot him full of wolfsbane laced bullets, “You have become so well trained, and such fun to have around, did you really think I’d leave you to die after you were so obedient in getting in clearing up that problem for me. No pet, once the vet has flushed the rest of the wolfsbane from the bullets out of you, and you’re back on your feet, it will be time to get you back on your knees and continue your training. After all, you’ve really taken to being such an obedient and good pet.”
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Author's Note:**

> \-------------------- 
> 
> There are several stories I am working on. So please comment if this is one that you like; comments help me focus when I'm being pulled in different directions by thoughts jumping from one story to another.


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